Two Steps Forward, One Back
by KissHerJack
Summary: Rose is mourning Her Doctor, and yet… he’s right in front of her. The road back to each other is by no means easy. Second in Series Two stories in UNSEEN AND IN BETWEEN series. 10/Rose. Rating is for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Two Steps Forward, One Back**

Author: Gail R. Delaney

**Series: The Unseen and In Between**

Setting: During Series Two up through _Age of Steel_

Genre: Angst, Romance

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Not mine. If I owned Doctor Who, Christopher Eccleston and David Tennant would be my own private little playmates.

Summary: Summary: Rose is mourning Her Doctor, and yet… he's right in front of her. She put on a good face for her mother, for Mickey… even for the Doctor; but, inside, she's struggling desperately for a balance. The road back to each other is by no means easy.

CHAPTER ONE

The Doctor's hand lingered on her shoulder as they walked back to the TARDIS, and she glanced back only once to watch Cassandra — still in the willing body of Chip — die in her own arms. Rose had hated Cassandra, and despised her for hijacking her body, but the scene saddened her.

His fingers slipped down her back, tracing her spine, and caught her hand in his. He unlocked the TARDIS with his left hand, and she wondered why she hadn't known before that he was left-handed.

Then she remembered. He _hadn't _been left-handed.

Rose looked down at their joined hands, palms against each other, his fingers wrapping nearly around her hand. The touch was warm, though not as warm as a human touch. Just like it had always been. And with a slight tugging at her heart, she realized she hadn't noticed the difference in his hand until she looked down. Her body had reacted to his touch just as it always had, with a pleasant warmth and awareness. It was her eyes that couldn't make the connection.

But, it seemed her eyes had the overpowering authority.

He released her hand to let her step inside the TARDIS first. No matter where they went or what they had done, Rose always knew she was 'home' when she entered the console room. It was one of the few things she was sure of these days.

The Doctor brushed past her once the door was closed, taking his time in engaging the TARDIS engines. They were in no rush, had no plans, so they might coast for a bit. She was tired, and welcomed the thought of sleep. Rose made her way across the console room, stopping to lean back against the padding wrapped railing.

He looked up quickly, his eyes shifting back to the console, but came back immediately to her. The Doctor stepped to her, his eyebrows forming a crooked line across his brow as he studied her. Before she could brace herself for the contact, he touched her face, his fingertips gentle against her temple.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," she said, but her voice came out like a rough scratch. "Better."

"Are you sure? Rose, you need to tell me if the psychograft — if she —" His lips tightened over his teeth, and he swallowed. "Are you sure?"

She felt the tension in his body, and the way he demanded her honesty made her remember another time when she'd hidden the truth from him.

_The Doctor's eyes shifted to her face briefly, then he returned to his examination. He pressed his large hands against her ribs, and she gasped._

"_That hurt?"_

_Rose blinked rapidly, swallowing. "N-no."_

_"Come on, then. Sit up." He rose to set one knee on the mattress and took her hand, sliding the other beneath her as he helped her upright. Her head swam a bit, but she held on to the sleeve of his jumper until the room stopped rocking. "Good?"_

_"Yeah," she answered, nodding. "Just — I just need a sec."_

_He sat again so they were facing each other and Rose ran her hand over her disheveled hair. She had to look a fright. But her senses were off-kilter and her body hot, and she couldn't focus enough to care._

_"Rose," he said, his voice stern. "Look at me."_

_She still had hold of his arm, and raised her chin to meet his intense gaze. His jaw was set firm, his lips forming a thin line. Rose wasn't sure if it really was anger she saw in his eyes, but whatever it was, it danced a shiver up her spine._

_"Don't you __ever__ do that again. Do you hear me?"_

_"Do what?"_

_"If you're hurt, you need to tell me. I can't fix you if I don't know."_

_"I thought I was all right."_

_"But you weren't…" His gaze slid away, then back to her again, softer. "You weren't. Just…don't."_

_"Okay," she said, nodding her head even though it made the room tip again. She tightened her grip on his arm and his other hand curled around her side, holding her firm. "I promise. I won't. But—"_

_"But what?"_

_Rose pulled her lower lip through her teeth, breathing slowly to find the words. "I didn't want you to think it was your fault."_

_"It is my fault—"_

_"No, it's not. You saved the world. And you took care of me. The way you always do. The way you promised my mum."_

_"A man doesn't take care of a woman, and leave bruises on her body." He looked down, and she felt the touch of his stare on her skin as real as a caress._

"I'm fine. Honest." She reached up to lay her hand across his wrist. "Doctor, I swear."

He touched her other cheek, both his hands framing her face, his breath skimming over her skin as he studied her features with intensity. His brown eyes shifted down, focusing briefly on her lips, and his thumb stroked the corner of her mouth. Rose held her breath.

Her breath hitched and her heart beat faster, a slow, languid heat spreading beneath her skin. Her body responded to him, just as it always had. And sometimes, she hated the treachery. Her head was willing to accept that he was still 'The Doctor – Time Lord', her body still wanted him as 'The Doctor – her Lover'. Somewhere in between, the two didn't meet up.

His hands were larger this time, fingers longer, not as rough and calloused. She missed the roughness, but his touch was just a little gentler. How could she miss his touch and enjoy it at the same time? She felt like a traitor, like she was cheating on a man who wasn't gone – standing in front of her. He'd talked before about paradoxes – and this was a paradox if she'd ever known one.

The TARDIS tipped slightly, either hitting some turbulence in the vortex, or taking it upon herself to give a little shove, and the Doctor took a step closer. He spread his fingers so he could touch her cheeks and the skin along her throat that she had exposed by piling her hair at her crown in a haphazard twist. This was the closest she had been to him since his change, and she realized she didn't need to tip her head back as far to hold his gaze.

It was all different… so why did she feel the same?

"Rose," he said softly, his thumb stroking her lower lip.

The tears came in a burning flash, and she snapped her eyes shut trying to keep them at bay. But the action just squeezed the tears free and they ran down her cheeks to wet the point of contact between his fingers and her skin. Rose sucked in a sharp breath and stumbled away from him, needing the support of the railing to keep her on her feet.

She stopped at the door, holding her knuckles against her mouth and nose to muffle the sob that threatened to come. He stood where she left him, his hands limp at his side and his head down. Slowly, knowing that she looked back, he raised his head and his gaze settled on her.

"I'm sorry," she choked out. "I'm sorry."

Rose stumbled down the hall to her bedroom and fell to her knees before she ever reached the bed. She curled forward, crossing her arms over her body to try and hold back the wave of grief.

The pain in his eyes floated in her memory. And the worst part was that as she cried, she could tell if they were brown… or blue.

! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

She woke up hours later, curled up on the floor, her head pounding and her stomach queasy. Worst of all was the empty feeling that sat in the middle of her chest where she was sure her heart had been. Half a dozen emotions battled for priority.

Smothering sadness because he was gone.

Hesitant elation that, in truth, he was still here.

Guilt for causing the dark pain in his eyes.

Confusion because nothing seemed to line up anymore.

Loneliness… she missed him. Even though he was right there, she missed him.

Anger at him for doing this, letting this happen, and not at least warning her.

And through it all, laced delicately between everything, tying it all up in a messy bundle… was love.

Rose had to find a way to fix this. She had to, or she might as well go back to London now. She couldn't go on like this. With aching muscles from sleeping on the floor, Rose crawled to the edge of the bed and worked herself up to sitting on the mattress edge. Her throat hurt from crying, her eyes scratched when she blinked, and her face felt stiff from dried tears. Rose couldn't remember the last time she'd cried like that. The more she thought about it, she never had. Nothing… _ever_… hurt like this. Not when she left Jimmy Stone. Not when her dad died in her arms. Not when she felt lost and confused and didn't know how to fix the Doctor.

With a groan, Rose got to her feet and stripped away her clothes as she made her way to her bathroom. For the hundredth time since making the TARDIS her home, Rose was thankful for the endless supply of hot water. Rinsed and dried, she felt moderately better, but her head still hurt and her stomach felt hollow.

Rose found her favorite flannels and wrapped herself in her thickest, fluffiest robe before leaving her room. She was torn between first finding the kitchen or the infirmary for some of that amazing headache stuff the Doctor had given her once. Then again, she didn't know how much to dose and she recalled he said something about it being a fine line between 'kill' and 'cure'.

They were in the vortex, hovering. She could tell by the vibration of the floor beneath her feet and the soft thrum in the air. Rose took the chance that he'd be in the console room, and turned that way.

The Doctor was stretched out on the jump seat, his arms laid out along the back in both directions and his trainers rested on the edge of the console, ankles crossed. His head was tipped back, his eyes closed, but she knew immediately that he wasn't asleep.

"Doctor?" she said softly.

He practically sprang to his feet, stumbling over his new gangly body, and tripped over a cable on the floor before finally righting himself. Despite everything going on in her head, and heart, Rose had to stifle her giggle by curling the fluffy collar of her robe over her lips.

His eyes brightened. "Like that, did you? New dance. Very popular in 1970's Philadelphia. Called the Bumble. Early precursor to the Hustle."

Rose smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Very classic."

The Doctor pushed his hands into his suit pockets and walked toward her, his eyes trained on her face. "Did you need something? You didn't sleep very long."

"Yeah, I've got a bi'of a headache. I wondered —" Before she finished, he reached out his hand and touched her forehead, smoothing her hair away, looking intently into her eyes. " — if you could give me some of that stuff. That liquid from Cora Prime."

"Of course," he said softly, but his attention hadn't shifted from her face.

Rose had done her best to wash away the signs of her crying jag, but she knew they were still there. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she hadn't bothered to put any make-up on before coming to find him. The Doctor dropped his hand from her face and held it out between them, silently asking that she take it.

She smiled, hoping that their silent exchange let him know everything was okay. They were okay… as okay as they could be. He led her down the hall to the infirmary, and told her about he 'may well have single-handedly' inspired the Rock Revolution in the late 1970's. And while The Bumble was 'truly an inspired move', he preferred some of the more creative dances of the 1980's.

They moved from the infirmary to the kitchen, and he gently insisted that she sit while he made her some warm milk and crackers with jam. Rose drew her feet up into the chair, hugging her knees to her chest as he moved around the kitchen.

"Doctor?" she interrupted, and he paused in the middle of a sentence about the Bee Gees.

He stuck a marmalade-covered fingertip in his mouth, smacking loudly as he turned to look at her.

"Do you still love bananas?"

He stilled, tilting his head slightly. His gaze shifted over her before coming back to look into her face. "Oh, yes." His eyes darkened, and he smiled slowly, licking his finger again. "I still love bananas. I still love everything I ever loved before."


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

_I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself. I take the words and scatter them through time and space. A message to lead myself here._

Rose's body jerked pulling her only briefly from the night terror that had wrapped its grip around her like a corpse's fingers. She was half out of her bed before her mind connected with the thick terror of the dream as it sucked her back in. Gooseflesh covered her skin, and she couldn't catch her breath. She stumbled from the bed and ran to the door. Blackness engulfed her.

_I want you safe, My Doctor. Protected from the false God_.

"Doctor!" she screamed, lunging into the hallway. She landed on her hands and knees, disoriented and desperate.

_He's dying! Right now! He's dying!_

"Doctor!"

_We must be in danger, and I mean fatal. I'm dead or about to die any second with no chance for escape. But, I promised to take care of you and that's what I'm doing. The TARDIS is taking you home._

"No!" She flailed blindly in the darkness. There was nothing. No light. Nothing at all. "Doctor!"

_I'm dead._

She screamed. Screamed until her throat hurt and her lunged burned. Rose pounded her body against whatever held her back from finding him, and screamed again.

! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

The Doctor was in one of the TARDIS storage rooms, rummaging around in a bin of random parts searching for a spare yard of Durvia Copper piping. Busy work. That's all it was. Anything to keep him from sitting in the console room, or the library, or his empty bedroom, and thinking.

Pondering.

Missing.

The mental nudge was more like a shove, and the Doctor actually stumbled sideways, gripping the edge of the bin. "What was that for?" he asked, not bothering to look around.

_Rose!_

The corporeal phasmic reloop converter in his hand dropped to the floor and he lunged to his feet, making it to the storage room door in two long strides, yanking the door open. Only then did he hear the distant echo of her screaming.

Screaming his name.

"Help me!" he demanded, but his ship was already doing just that. Walls and floors shifted just feet in front of him, almost too slowly for his dead-on sprint. Walls flipped, moved aside, collapsed to form floors where nothing but space had been. But he never slowed, never hesitated, and each time the barrier was gone before he hit it.

Her cries changed, no longer was it his name, but just a heart-wrenching scream of terror. The cloister bells were silent, and the TARDIS hadn't alerted him of danger. What danger could there be? They were parked on a completely uninhabited moon with no atmosphere and no threat.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he broke into the hall outside the console room. And for just one half-tick he froze.

Rose was in the hall, folded up like a broken cardboard box with her face against the Turkish rug, her hands pounding on the floor. Her screams echoed off the carved wainscoting, screams mixed with sobs.

He ran to her, dropping to his knees beside her violently trembling form. She didn't struggle, didn't even resist when he gripped her shoulders and turned her over into his arms. Her eyes were wide open, but he knew she saw nothing. Her body arched, stiffened, and she threw her head back.

"Doctor!" She drew out his name through the cry, grinding it through clenched teeth.

"I'm here, Rose. I'm here," he said firmly, despite the tight panic in his throat.

She screamed again, her arms flailing. Her fingers touched his shoulder, and instantly she clutched at him, knuckles white. The Doctor laid her on the floor and leaned over her, bringing his face within inches of her. Wide brown eyes darted left and right, seeing nothing, tears running freely.

"Rose." He repeated her name again and again, softly and calmly, a sharp contrast to how he felt. He brushed sweat-dampened hair from her face and pressed his fingertips to her temples and along her hairline. Whatever terror had hold of her, it wouldn't give up easily, but he had to try. He pushed out with his mind, delving into a place he had never gone before… Rose's private thoughts. Not even when he blocked her memories on Satellite Five, he'd never taken liberties.

He couldn't see anything, and sensed only choking terror. And loss. Devastating loss. Blackness stretched out into nothingness. She was alone.

"Oh, no… no, Rose," he whispered gently, blinking through the tears that stung in his own eyes. He leaned closer, bringing his lips close to her ear, resting his cheek against her slick skin. "You're not alone. Come on back to me, Rose."

She called his name, but it was softer… ragged. Blind hands fumbled over his shoulders and chest, and he took her wrist, guiding her palm to his cheek, and he pressed a kiss to her skin.

"I'm here, Rose. I'm here."

A shuttered breath shifted through her, and her body went limp in his hold. The Doctor pulled back, her hand sliding from his cheek to fall to her chest. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, and he felt the vicious pounding of her heart begin to ease. The Doctor gently touched her face, sniffing loudly, before he drew a shaky breath and rested his forehead against the valley between her breasts. Her pyjamas clung to her skin, damp with her sweat, but there would be time later to deal with that.

The Doctor shifted his weight and knelt beside her, sliding his arms behind her shoulders and knees, lifting her to his chest before standing. He carried her to her bedroom, and only took a second to note the way the bed dressings were rumpled and tossed aside as if she'd been struggling with them in her sleep before the nightmare took hold. He laid her down, her limp arms sliding away from him as he let her go.

Swallowing hard, he shook out the blankets and started to pull them over her. Then he caught the slight tensing of her features in her sleep and her hand reached out… to him.

He couldn't leave her, couldn't risk her being alone if another wave of the sleep terror took over. The Doctor toed off his trainers and slipped between the sheets, covering them both before he pulled her against him so they faced each other. This way, he could watch her face while she slept and stop the dreams before they took hold. Her hand, even in sleep, sought him out, her fingers curling into the lapel of his suit jacket before she nuzzled into his chest and released a long, ragged sigh.

The Doctor kissed her cheek, her temple and her brow as he smoothed her hair. "Sleep, Rose," he whispered softly against her ear. "I'll keep the nightmares away."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Before she opened her eyes, Rose was aware of the gentle weight across her waist, and the touch of skin against skin on her back beneath her tee shirt. Warm breath whispered over her cheek, and Rose tilted her head into it, her chin touching slightly-stubbled skin.

The hand against her back pulled away, and she groaned softly, missing the touch. Then knuckles brush her cheek, and a thumb strokes the corner of her lips. Liquid heat pooled in her stomach, spreading out into her limbs, and she smiled, rubbing her cheek against his like a cat.

"Awake, I see."

His voice skimmed over her skin, and for the first time, her heart didn't retreat when she didn't hear the familiar northern accent. She blinked, and brought his face into focus, and realizes that every bit of his face was covered with tiny little freckles, so light that they weren't that noticeable from any kind of distance. But this close, she even saw a crescent of three along the inside of his left eye against his nose. His eyes were the color of aged scotch, just like her Gramps used to drink when he was alive, thick lashes framing them that would make any woman jealous.

His lips were finer, his features defined but not as stark. Rose freed her arm from where it was held snug between them, reaching up to touch his mouth. His lips part slightly at the touch, his breath warm on her fingertips.

"You're different," she said softly, realizing only when she tried to speak how raw her throat was.

"Good different, or bad different?" His lips curled up slightly, his eyes trained on her face.

Rose smiled too, remembering the first time they had this exchange. "Just… different."

"But definitely not ginger." He made himself sound disappointed, which just made Rose smile wider, chuckling softly.

She couldn't quite remember what put them here, in her bed in his arms, only the remains of a frightening dream and the Doctor's voice calming her. Right now, she didn't want to try. Maybe she was fighting too hard to hang on to what he had been, to realize what he was.

The Doctor. Simple as that.

"Is that okay?" she asked softly.

The Doctor scowled, speaking against her fingertips. "Is what okay?"

"That you're just… different? Not better, not worse? Can I just…" She paused, watching the way his lips brushed her fingertips. "Can I miss the way you were, but like the way you are? Are you okay if I don't like you one way more than another, but l-l…" She faltered a little. "Can I like both of you?"

He nodded. "Of course. Can't very well have me jealous of myself, can I? Although…" The Doctor squinted his eyes and looked past her. "In my fifth regeneration, I played a mean game of crickett. Haven't had quite the same game since."

"Doctor," she said gently cutting him off. His attention shifted back to her, his stare skimming over her face to settle on her lips. "Doctor…"

His expression softened, his eyes darkening. Rose held her breath as he laid his hand against her cheek, his thumb touching her lip just as he had done so many times since the regeneration. She hadn't wanted to accept it then, but now she understood how much he had wanted to be with her the way it had been.

Rose rolled away from him onto her back, pulling at his suit jacket as she shifted, and he followed, bracing his weight on a bent arm while he looked down at her. She wrapped her arms around his body — slightly thinner than before, but his weight over her still sent a rush of heat under her skin — and laid her hands on his back. Rose silently cursed the layers he wore, and wished they didn't muffle the beat of his hearts. She loved to feel the dual beat when they kissed… and made love.

Her stomach fluttered, and a soft groan whispered from her throat. And he hadn't even kissed her yet!

The Doctor smiled nervously. "I feel like I've never done this before."

"You haven't," she managed to say despite the rapid staccato of her heart and the growing ache deep in her body. "Not with those lips. Not with this body."

"New Earth doesn't count?"

Rose shook her head. "Wasn't me. I know it happened, but I only barely remember it. Like I was standing in the corner of a dark room and caught it out of the corner of my eye, ya know? Know it happened… didn't experience it."

"That's good. That — that's very good," he babbled. "Because, Rose, I want you to remember. I want —"

"Doctor?" He just arched his eyebrows, pausing in his speech. "Add 'too much chin waggin' to the differences this time around."

"Right. Sorry," he apologized, and promptly covered her mouth with his.

The kiss stole her breath, and immediately shot bolts of awareness and arousal through her. He kissed her slowly, shifting his lips over hers with painfully gentle tenderness. Then his lips parted, and she matched his dance, and their tongues connected like a live electrical conduit and the kiss immediately changed, turning almost desperate.

Rose groaned against his mouth, arching against him, wanting more than anything to crawl inside him. She wiggled her arms up through his to wrap them around his neck, shoving her fingers into his unruly hair, pulling slightly as she tried to draw him closer. He hissed softly, but she got the definite impression that it was a sound of pleasure, and not pain.

Then his hand slid beneath her shirt, skimming over her stomach before he laid his palm flat over her ribs, his fingertips just teasing the bottom curve of her breast. He pulled his mouth away from the kiss, only to steal her breath again when he latched on to the skin of her throat, eliciting a rush of arousal through her.

There was no doubt in her mind now that she had been a fool. No man had ever made her feel like this, only the Doctor. Didn't matter what face he wore, it was his touch that set her on fire. She burned.

"_You've got the entire vortex running through your head. You're gonna burn!"_

Rose gasped and tensed, the flash of a fragmented memory hitting her with an almost physical force. The Doctor stopped his exploration of her neck, pulling back to look into her face, his brown eyes shifting as he sought out in her expression what was wrong.

Then they both jerked, startled by the sudden shrill ringing of Rose's super phone. Rose groaned, pressing her head back into her pillows. Only two people had that number – her mum and Mickey – and if they were calling, it had to be important. The Doctor rolled off her, his fingertips dragging across her stomach before he stretched out on his back. She tossed aside the blankets and dug around in the pile of clothes she'd left on the floor the night before.

After about the fourth ring, she managed to find the phone and saw 'Mickey' on the small screen before sliding it open to place it to her ear. "Yeah," she said, slightly breathless.

"Rose?"

"Of course. Who else would it be?" She sat on the edge of the mattress and looked back over her shoulder at the Doctor.

His eyes were closed, his arms stretched out across the bed, and what she could see of his suit was pleasantly rumpled. The blankets covered him from the waist down, and if she didn't know better, she'd think he'd gone to sleep, he was so still.

"Rose, listen. There's this school. Strange lights in the sky over it. Anyway… there's some weird things going and you and the Doctor… I need you. There's something out there."

"Hang on."

Rose held the phone out to the Doctor, bouncing the bed as she flopped backward. "It's for you. Sounds like Mickey has an X-File that needs solvin'."

He still didn't open his eyes, but reached out his hand and Rose set the phone into it. Putting the phone to his ear, he said "Has anyone ever told you that you have impeccable timing, Mickey Smith?" Rose grinned when the Doctor finally opened his eyes and winked at her. "They haven't? Well, there might be a very good reason for that. So, tell me… whadoyousay, whadoyouknow, Mickey-Boy."

The Doctor listened for a moment, before rolling up to his feet to stand on the other side of the bed. "You don't say." Pause. "You don't say." Pause. "You don't… okay, well obviously you do say. Sounds like a mystery to be solved." He grinned wildly at Rose. "Agents Mulder and Scully reporting for duty. We'll be there post haste." He snapped the phone closed and tossed it back on the bed. "Love that show. They were way off on the whole world ending in 2012, _completely_ misinterpreted the Mayan calendar. Besides, we've been to 2012, been beyond 2012, and yet, the Earth is still there. Aaaaanyway, sounds like your boyfriend —"

"Don't call him that," she corrected sternly, tempered with good humor.

Her rebuttal seemed to please him, and he grinned wider, if that were possible, pushing his hands into his pockets. "Sounds like Mickey might be on to something. Either way, it's worth checking out. I've got the date from you super phone, and after a quick system check, we can be there in a few." His eyes drifted over her, and he sighed heavily. "As much as it truly _truly_ pains me to say this, perhaps you should be dressed before we land."

Rose looked up at him, pulling her lower lip through her teeth. If Mickey hadn't called… heat flashed over her skin and she felt the deep flush creep into her cheeks. The Doctor sat on the bed, the mattress bouncing with his weight, and put on his trainers, and Rose watched his back. The last few minutes had left her dizzy and off kilter. How was it that just a couple days ago, she burst into tears at the idea of his kiss, but now…

The Doctor leaped to his feet and leaned over the bed, supporting himself on his hands as he stretched across the space to briefly kiss her.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "Just before the phone rang, I thought something might have been wrong —"

She kissed him again, laying her hand on his cheek. "Everything is fine. I'm fine."

He smiled wide, so wide it crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Good. Wonderful!"

Then he was gone, bounding out of the room with an enthusiasm she found she enjoyed seeing. Only once could she remember him being so exuberant in his previous skin. When he'd used the nanogenes in World War II London, and loudly declared _"Everybody lives, Rose! Everybody lives!"_.

She smiled, happy that the memory no longer brought a wave of choking loss. Yes, she would miss his stark features and the smell of aged leather that lingered on his skin. She'd miss the breathtaking intensity of his ice-blue eyes. But, she hadn't lost _him_.

With a content sigh, Rose forced herself off the bed and pulled her pyjama top over her head, tossing it in the growing pile of dirty laundry. After a quick shower, she came back into the bedroom and rummaged through her wardrobe — much smaller in comparison to the 'chamber' that passed as the TARDIS wardrobe — and got dressed. Making an effort to clean up a little bit, she swept up her laundry to toss in the dirty bin, when something thumped on the floor.

Rose tilted sideways to see around the bundle, seeing the Doctor's journal lying open at her feet. She'd almost forgotten about the journal in the stressful and chaotic weeks since his regeneration. The TARDIS had given her the journals to help her believe that he really _was_ the Doctor, and he really _had_ completely changed his body.

Rose dumped the clothes on the bed and sat on the edge, picking up the journal. She smiled at the messy, rushed handwriting and decided it fit his former self perfectly. Always ready for the next adventure, always in a rush to write down whatever he needed to say.

She'd only read the one entry in this journal, the one he'd written right after she joined him. The pages crackled softly as she turned them, his heavy hand leaving indentation lines of the words he wrote from one page to another. With a slow smile, Rose crossed her legs and held the journal in her lap. Reading one or two more entries couldn't hurt.

Rose flipped to a random page.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

_Adam is an idiot. I'm amazed he doesn't carry a certified copy of his IQ exam, just so he can prove to everyone just how bloody clever he is. I don't know why I didn't leave him in Utah._

_That's a lie. Of course I know. Rose asked. And I can't deny her anything within my power to give._

_Including myself. _

_She's so beautiful. So young. So very young. And she's clever, more clever than she realizes. I don't think anyone has told her enough just how bright she is. Which just makes me wonder more why she would want to be with me._

_But, no bother now. He's gone. Tossed him out on his surgically altered head. Just me and Rose again, the way it should be. The way I want it to be. _

His entries were always succinct and lacking in a lot of detail. He didn't write about their 'adventures', more like his reaction. She was surprised he wouldn't write about the Jagrafess, or Satellite Five, or the hundred years of Earth history that had been knocked off course.

But, instead, he wrote about her.

Through the open door, she heard him singing in the console room. He had his Ian Drury CD in again, and was belting out the song. The Doctor didn't regenerate with much of a singing voice, but what he lacked in tone, he made up for with enthusiasm.

"In the dock of Tiger Bay! On the road to Mandalay! From Bombay to Santa Fe, over hills and far away! Hit me with your rhythm stick. Hit me! Hit me!"

Rose smiled and curled a bit of hair behind her ear before she turned back to the journal. She let the edges of the book flutter past her fingertips, opening again.

_I have committed possibly the greatest sin. And yet, I can't bring myself to feel contrite. _

_Even now, I know I should go to her and tell her this was wrong. That this will not be. And I should take her home. Take her back to London and her quiet life, keep her safe, let her live, keep her away from me._

_I can't. And I won't. _

_She's in my bed, naked and beautiful. She gave herself to me, and Rasillon help me, I took what she offered. In Rose, I find peace. It's wrong. I don't deserve peace. I don't deserve her companionship. I don't deserve her affection. But, it isn't the first time I've taken more than I deserve._

_And when I've run out of lives, I'll hold on to her face and the memory of her touch._

Rose blinked against the tears that blurred the words on the page. His words, however few they were, were beautiful. They hurt… knowing that he felt himself so unworthy of her, of anyone… but they reminded her again why she'd fallen in love with him.

_I took Rose to Woman Wept. I've felt the tension in her since we left 1987 London. I was cruel, and I lashed out to her. I don't blame her for not trusting me. I was stupid to assume she would even be capable of that kind of deception. _

Rose flipped backward in the journal. She almost hated to read what he might have written about her after London. That day had been one of the worst days of her life. Yeah, it hurt to watch her father die. It broke her heart, but she had held his hand and let him go.

It had hurt when the Doctor yelled at her, furious with her because he thought she had tricked him, used him. But, the worst pain had been knowing she hurt him.

_The Doctor kissed her gently, his lips slicked over her wet mouth, and his tongue skimming the inside of her lips, drawing a tremble from her despite the heat of the shower. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her hands against his back. Each separate heart thumped in rhythm beneath her palm, and her own heart jumped in response to the contact. _

_His hands held each side of her head, changing the angle to kiss her deeper, slowly drawing the pain away with each brush of his tongue against hers. The long kiss turned into shorter kisses, until he stopped to rest his forehead against hers. Rose wrapped her fingers around his arms, his skin hot and wet from the shower. _

"_I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said in the space between them. "I should have said no. I should have saved you from the pain. I should have seen —"_

_It was Rose's turn to stop him, covering his lips with her fingers. "I shouldn't have asked. Doctor…" She leaned back enough to look into his face, finding strength again in the contact between them. "Doctor, I'll stay. But… I need you to swear something to me."_

"_Rose —"_

"_Just listen." She held his face in her hands, and looked directly in his eyes. "I swear to you, Doctor, I swear that I didn't mean to do what I did. I never meant to hurt you like that. And I did not come with you just to save my dad."_

"_It doesn't matter."_

"_Yes¸ it does. Look me in the eyes and swear to me you believe me."_

_He said nothing, his eyes shifting slightly as he held her gaze, and her lungs burned from holding her breath, waiting for him to say what she needed to hear. Rose kissed him, putting everything she had into the contact. When she pulled back, his gaze immediately connected with hers again._

"_I am here because I want to be. I came with you because I knew you would show me everything I never dared imagine. I stayed with you because to you I wasn't just some stupid shop girl who never went on to her A-Levels. Because even though you doubt I'll understand, you explain anyway because I ask. Because…"_

_She blinked against the water running in her eyes, trying to categorize all the reasons she wanted to be with him, all the reasons she needed to be with him, and she realized she was no longer crying. She was determined, determined to make sure he understood. Rose couldn't stand the thought that he might think…_

"_I believe you."_

_Her shoulders dropped and some of the weight in her chest eased at the three words, but it wasn't enough. "Swear to me," she ordered. "Swear to me that you believe me."_

"_I swear to you, Rose. I believe you."_

Her heart thumped nervously in her chest as she flipped the pages, not wanting to know what he said about her then… but almost needing to know. Taking a shaky breath, Rose read… and had to start reading again to make sure she was in the right place. He wrote nothing about being angry with Rose, nothing about how she'd ripped apart time, how he'd taken back his key. Nothing at all about being angry with her.

But, what he _did_ write sent a cold rush over her skin.

_I almost didn't come back._

_The Reaper consumed me, but what choice did I have? If it hadn't been me, it might have been Rose. And I couldn't allow that. But, I know now from whom Rose inherited her heart. Pete Tyler figured it out, and he gave his life to save them all._

_But, that wasn't my time and place. I didn't belong, and it took a lot to get back. I had to, for Rose. I couldn't leave her there. It wasn't my time, but it wasn't hers, either. I'm drained, physically. My regenerative energy is low, it hadn't been enough time since I converted some of that energy to Rose. _

_I'm worried. If I don't have enough time to rebuild my stores, I don't know if I'll have enough to heal, let alone regenerate. I just have to hope for the best. No use in running from danger, it always seems to find me._

Rose's hands shook as she read. What did he mean? He converted his regenerative energy to her? When? What did….?

She gasped, nearly dropping the journal as she frantically turned the pages. She knew roughly where the first entry about her had been. It hadn't been long after that. After the Slitheen. After they blew up Downing Street. When she woke up…

_"A man doesn't take care of a woman, and leave bruises on her body." He looked down, and she felt the touch of his stare on her skin as real as a caress._

_Her heart pounded in her chest and she had to stare up at the ceiling for a few moments rein in the chaotic emotions swarming in her stomach. It wasn't the first time Rose had felt a 'jolt' at the Doctor's touch… but this was the first time they were so… she was so…underdressed._

_When she thought she could speak clearly, she lowered her chin and looked at him again. "You warned this was dangerous. I'm bound to get a bump or bruise now and again, yeah?"_

_He stared at her, but didn't answer, his lips set tight together. She had seen the same look in the vaulted room, and looking back, she realized it was when he warred with himself about what to do._

_"What about you?" she asked, laying her hand on his chest. "You all right?"_

_"Right as rain," he said quickly. He raised his hand from her side and laid it against her cheek, smiling. "Are you hungry?"_

_"Yeah, I think I am."_

_"Come on, then. We'll see what we've got," he said, standing. The bed bounced with his departure. "I know we have some lovely bananas."_

_"Could I maybe get dressed first?" she asked, raising her eyebrows._

_In a flash, it was like he suddenly remembered that she was half dressed and lying in her bed. If she didn't know better, Rose would have sworn the Doctor's ears turned bright red._

_"Oh, well, yeah, of course. I'll just be waiting outside, then." He clapped his hands together then jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the door._

_Rose threw back the blanket and lowered her feet to the floor. He had left her pants on, but she managed to find a pair of shoes to slip on her stocking feet. She opened the door to the walnut armoire in the corner of the room and pulled out a shirt, glancing in the large oval mirror atop her matching bureau. Something caught her eye, and she stepped back, turning to face the mirror full on._

_She had to squint, and the light in the room was dim enough to make it hard to see, but as she ran her fingertips across her stomach she could swear she saw the perfect outline of his hand glowing softly on her skin._

She found the very first entry that he'd made into the journal about her, and knew they had gone home just after that. Rose had wanted to make sure her mum knew she was okay, and never would have guessed the TARDIS would bring her back a year after she'd left. After a slap from her mum, and an alien space ship landing in the Thames, things had gotten crazy.

Taking a deep breath, Rose read the entry.

_I should have known. She's human. She's frail and young. So vulnerable. How could I expect her to walk away from an explosion like that without being hurt? But, I was stupid and I was in a hurry to leave. To escape the domesticity of her mother's flat. I ignored what was probably obvious._

_I nearly lost her. I told her that was the chance we took, but she trusted me. She trusted me to bring her through to the other side. _

_I had to act quickly. I had to take care of her. I feel it now, my energy is low. It hasn't been that long, in the grand scheme of the universe, since my regeneration and I'm still recovering. It had taken more to regenerate this last time, after the War. Healing her drained my own regenerative stores. It will take time to recover, but I will. There's no worry of that. Unless something else happens._

_I'll just have to be careful._

Rose was shaking by the time she finished reading. "Oh, god," she whispered. Her heart pounded loud in her ears, muffling his singing from the console room. The TARDIS had taken flight somewhere in her reading, she felt the shift in the vibrations. They were on their way to London.

She stood, the journal still in her shaking hands. That had been the last entry in that book, all the pages full.

_Healing her drained my own regenerative stores. It will take time to recover, but I will. There's no worry of that. Unless something else happens._

_I'm worried. If I don't have enough time to rebuild my stores, I don't know if I'll have enough to heal, let alone regenerate_.

In a brutal flash that knocked her knees like a slap across the face, everything rushed into her mind. Everything that happened on Satellite Five. Everything from the moment she opened the TARDIS and the golden glow had wrapped around her.

_I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself. I take the words and scatter them through time and space. A message to lead myself here._

_Rose, you've got to stop this. You've got to stop this now! You've got the entire vortex running through your head. You're gonna burn._

_I want you safe. My Doctor. Protected from the false God._

_I can see the whole of time and space – every single atom of your existence, and I divide them. Everything must come to dust. All things. Everything dies. The Time War ends._

_Rose, you've done it. Now stop. Just let go._

_The power's going to kill you and it's my fault._

_I can see everything. All that is… all that was… all that ever could be. My head… it's killing me…_

Then he had kissed her, and all the pain had been drawn away with the power. The golden glow around her had ebbed and she felt it slowly leave her body. Her head had felt heavy, yet floating at the same time. And she let herself go. The Doctor held her, slowly lowering her to the floor, but as her consciousness slipped away she saw the glow of power in his eyes.

_I absorbed all the energy of the Time Vortex, and no one's meant to do that. Every cell in my body is dying._

Rose gripped the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling sick. She huffed several short, rapid breaths to keep her stomach down. She remembered every moment, as if it had never been forgotten. No, suppressed. She understood now why it was all such a jumble.

He'd tried to hide it from her.

He'd lied to her.

Rose forced herself to her feet, walking to the door by sheer will. By the time she entered the hall, she was steady on her feet, and anger boiled in her chest, bubbling like a sulfur spring. Just as she hit the console door, the TARDIS lurched and she gripped to doorframe to stay on her feet.

The Doctor looked up. "There you are! We're here, and I'm sure Mickey Boy will arrive any moment now. Then it's off to figure out this great mystery, hey?"

"Give it to me," she snapped out, cutting him off.

He straightened, his hand lingering on a control. "Give what to you? Rose, what's wrong?"

She stomped into the console room, her footsteps echoing angrily off the grating. Rose held up the journal, waving it at him. "Your journal. Your _new_ journal. Give it to me."

"How – how did you get that?"

"Does that really _matter_ right now? Doctor, give me the bloody journal."

"No!" he snapped, and it was the first time she'd heard anger in this new voice. He came around the console, covering the space between them in two long strides. He snatched the book from her hand. "_Tell_ me how you got this."

"The TARDIS gave it to me. She gave me several when you were sick. She was trying to help me understand what had happened, help me find a way to help you."

"This was not meant for you to read." His voice dropped to an almost inaudible low, and the fury bounced off him like a force field. "This was not meant for anyone to read."

"Obviously! Because now I know you lied to me. Doctor, you promised me — you _swore_ to me — that you would never lie to me. And you did!"

"No. I told you the _only_ time I would lie to you was to save your life."

"S'at how you justify this? You knew weeks —_months_ — before Satellite Five that something could go wrong. You knew and you said _nothing_!"

"What good would it have done?"

"At least I would have _known_! I could have – have – " A sudden realization slammed hard into Rose's chest and she stumbled back, gripping the edge of a rondell in the wall to keep her balance. "Oh. My. God." Rose looked up at him, staring until her eyes burned. "I killed you. You died because of me."

"I didn't die." He paused, but Rose was pretty sure he understood what she meant. "I regenerated."

"Yeah, and you _never told me_. You never even _mentioned_ that it could happen! I didn't understand, I didn't know what to do!"

He had no argument. Instead, he dropped his head forward and stared at the grating, his hand shoved into his pockets. Rose turned her back to him, laying her shaking hand against her forehead. Since he regenerated, she had felt grief like she'd never known… and now she felt more furious than she thought possible. Taking a slow, calming as it could be breath, she turned back to him.

"Give me the journal."

The Doctor raised his head, his lips straight and his eyes stern, unrevealing of what he felt now. The journal he had taken back from her fell to the grating with a muffled thump and he brushed past her into the hall. Rose followed. If he was going to give her the journal, she didn't dare give him a chance to change his mind. And if he was retreating to deny her argument, she wasn't about to let him hide.

He practically marched down the hall to the library, turning right to descend the staircase to the lower level. The Doctor walked to a beautifully carved desk in the corner of the room furthest from the fireplace and bookshelves, and using his sonic screwdriver, unlocked the center drawer and opened it. Inside was a single journal, still looking crisp and new. He pulled it out and dropped it on the desktop.

"Do you want to read it, or will you trust me if I tell you?"

Rose shifted her gaze from the book, to him. She realized this would be a defining moment for whatever future they had. She closed her eyes just long enough to gather her thoughts and find her bearings again before raising her chin to meet his gaze.

His expression was still emotionless, guarded. Rose could almost see the walls. She licked her lips, curling them into her teeth, and nodded slowly. "You tell me."

The Doctor sucked in a deep breath, his stare shifting away just for a moment before coming back to her. "If things had been different, I probably wouldn't have regenerated. I probably could have survived."

"You mean if you hadn't had to…" She stammered, trying to find the right words. "…_heal_ me after Downing Street. If you hadn't been devoured by the Reapers that were only on Earth because of was I idid/i… if I wasn't here, you wouldn't have… you could've…"

He reached for her, but Rose stumbled back from the contact, raising her hand to fend him off. "No! Don't… don't try to _comfort_ me. I don't…" She shook her head violently. "Why didn't it kill me? I'm just… I'm just human."

The Doctor shook his head, his eyebrows arching as he shrugged. "I don't know. I think that perhaps the TARDIS held back, she wanted to help you but she didn't want to hurt you. She…" He looked up at the high ceiling two stories above them, seeking answers that weren't coming. When he looked at her again, a sort of wonder had taken over his expression. "She joined with you, but she didn't let the Vortex take you. Rose, I've never seen anything so beautiful—"

"But you absorbed it."

His face sobered, back to the tense, angry expression of moments before. "I had to so I could draw it out of you. You couldn't let go. Eventually, it would have taken over."

"You should have told me."

"Perhaps."

"You should have _told_ me!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the library walls. Rose stumbled away, nearly tripping on a stack of books that hadn't yet made it to the shelves. She made it to the staircase and sat on one of the lower steps, hiding her face in her hands.

"Is that why you tried to make me forget?" she asked through her hands. "Tried me make me forget what I… what I did?" Her body trembled violently, making her feel sick. "Oh, god. I killed them. I killed them all." She slapped her hand over her mouth, fighting the wave of nausea.

The Doctor retrieved a small trash bucket beside the desk and came to her, sitting beside her with the bucket held at the ready. Rose shook her head, forcing herself not to get sick. He laid his hand on her back between her shoulder blades, not stroking her in comfort, not offering anything other than his nearness. After a few minutes, he set the bucket down. Rose brushed her hands across her wet cheeks and stared across the library to the empty fireplace.

"You saved my life."

His voice was rough, heavy and it drew her eyes back to him. Rose sniffed, swallowing hard at the raw, unmasked emotion in his eyes when he looked at her. He hesitantly raised his hand and brushed some hair from her face.

"No—" she started to argue, but he shook his head.

"Rose, I was moments away from dying. And I wouldn't have regenerated. Regeneration is my choice. I can _choose_ not to, and I wouldn't have regenerated. But you…" He paused, huffing a breath, looking down for a moment before meeting her gaze again. "You came back for me."

"How could I not?" It was hard to speak. Her throat was tight with emotion and her chest hurt. "I—"

A distant pounding echoed down the hall, and Rose knew Mickey had found the TARDIS. Rose wiped her cheeks again with the back of her hand, thankful at least that she hadn't put on her make-up yet.

"I'll go see to Mickey," he said as he stood. "Take your time."

He ascended the stairs, and within a few minutes she heard the distant, faint sound of Mickey and the Doctor talking in the console room. She used the railing to pull herself to her feet, still feeling a little nausea, and tried _hard_ not to think about what had make her sick.

Her eyes drifted to the desk, and the journal that still sat there. Rose had thought she needed to read it, but she knew now that everything she needed to know about the two of them she would find in him.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Nine hundred years.

Nine regenerations. Ten new faces.

Three-dozen or more companions had come and gone through the TARDIS in his roughly eight centuries of traveling.

And no one, not _one_ of those many faces had held the power that Rose Tyler — a young woman from 21-Century-London-England-UK-Earth — had over him. She devastated him, she lifted him up, she crushed him…

And she made him breathe.

On some level, he had cared for each of his companions. Some, he regretted bringing on board almost immediately. Adam Mitchell came quickly to mind as a recent error in judgment. And Turlough, although he managed to redeem himself eventually.

Some, he had cared for more than others and had missed them immensely when they left. Their memory would come back to him at the strangest times, for the strangest reasons. When he needed a name in 1879 Scotland, he didn't fall back on his usual 'John Smith', but James McCrimmon… just being in Scotland had made him think of young Jamie, who had been one of the first companions to join him after Susan was gone.

Yet, somehow, for the most part he had managed not to 'bump into' past companions once they'd left him. It was better that way. He had always told himself it was for their better good, but in truth, it was for him. If he never saw them again, he didn't have to explain himself. Blon Fel Fotch Passameer-Day Slitheen had hit the nail on the head when she told him he was _"Always moving on because you __dare__ not look back_."

Then there was Sarah Jane Smith.

Perhaps of them all, excluding Susan for obvious reasons, he had cared the most about Sarah Jane. She had been with him for longer than most companions, nearly four linear years. And when he left her, he had only done it because he had been summoned to Gallifrey – a place where no human was allowed. They only tolerated him because of his father's name.

He never promised he'd be back for her, and yet, he never told her he wouldn't be. Which only drove home Rose's point. No, he hadn't lied because she hadn't asked him about regenerative energy depletion. But, he'd withheld the truth… a lie of omission.

Seeing Sarah Jane, alive and well and pursuing her dreams, had been more wonderful than he ever imagined. She took him by surprise, and when she spoke of him — not knowing that he had a new face and stood right in front of her — made him think that perhaps not everything was left in ruin in his wake.

"I thought of you on Christmas Day," Sarah Jane said, pulling him out of his ponderings as he fiddled with K-9's aged interior. "This Christmas just gone? Great big spaceship overhead — I thought 'Oh, yeah. Bet he's up there'."

"Right on top of it, yeah. Well, eventually. I was mid-regeneration."

"And Rose?"

He smiled, just a little, remembering. "Oh, yes. She was there, too."

Sarah Jane fell quiet, and he felt her watching him as he played with K-9's wires. He could hear the muffled sound of Mickey's and Rose's conversation, Rose's voice just slightly louder than Mickey's, and the Doctor recognized the tone. She wasn't happy, and it took all he had to keep himself focused on K-9 and not go find out what was wrong.

"She's very young."

"Twenty," he answered, glancing briefly at Sarah Jane. "She's twenty."

Sarah Jane nodded. "Like I said, very young."

"Don't let her age fool you. She's clever." He dug deep into K-9's innards, finding a faulty recoil unit, zapping it with setting 113.

"And very pretty, I suppose."

"She's beautiful," he said absently, but his hand stilled when he realized what he'd said. He cautiously slid his gaze to Sarah Jane. There was no surprise on her face, just acceptance, as if she'd known what he would say. The Doctor swallowed, and hitched one corner of his lips up in a half-smile. "She's wonderful."

"So, she really isn't just an assistant. Or a companion."

He shook his head, swallowing hard. "No." It was the first time he had admitted to anyone — other than Rose, and he readily acknowledged he hadn't admitted it enough to Rose — that she was more to him. Sarah Jane drew it effortlessly out of him. "She saved me, Sarah Jane. I told you everyone died, Galifrey is gone. And Rose… she… " He lost the words, clearing his throat before focusing again on K-9.

She smiled weakly, almost nervously. "Does she know this?"

"Not nearly well enough."

They fell into silence again, and he split his attention between fixing K-9 and straining to possibly hear what Rose and Mickey were talking about. But, they were purposefully keeping their voices down.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Sarah Jane's question surprised him, and he looked back to her. "What? No."

"Because you never came back for me. You just… dumped me."

"I told you. I was called back home and in those days humans weren't allowed."

"I waited for you," she said softly. "I missed you."

The cold fingers of guilt, a touch he had grown accustomed to, gripped the back of his neck. He smiled, trying to ignore it. "Oh, you didn't need me. You were getting on with your life."

"You _were_ my life."

He looked her in the eyes, knowing she deserved at least that much, but had no rebuttal, no answer.

! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

Rose had reached her breaking point.

For weeks, she had tried to find a balance, some level ground. But, just when she thought she had her feet firmly under her, something ripped the rug out and she was on her arse again, staring into new brown eyes and wondering how the hell she got to this point.

Now, everything she thought she knew about them had been tossed in a blender and poured out on a table for her to try and scoop up.

She wasn't so naïve to think that the Doctor hadn't ever been involved with someone. He was nine hundred years old, and had been to every part of the galaxy. And if his last two 'faces' were any indication of how he might have looked in the past, she was sure he hadn't had any trouble sparking interest.

But, she never really considered the possibility that she'd come face to face with anyone. Yet, here she was… plopped down in the middle of the mystery… Ms. Sarah Jane Smith. And since the Doctor had seen her, the change in him was painfully obvious. He laughed with Sarah Jane, he smiled at her, he watched her when she spoke, and when they ran from the school it was Sarah Jane's hand he held.

She was pretty. Obviously, it had been a long time since she'd been with the Doctor, and Rose could imagine the woman being beautiful in her youth.

Even now, he and Sarah Jane sat together across the chippy, talking with their heads tilted toward each other, leaving Rose to sit with Mickey several tables away as Mickey made no attempt to hide his smug look.

"You see, what's impressive is that it's been nearly an hour since we met her and I still haven't said 'I told you so'."

"I'm not listening to this." Rose forced herself to look away from the Doctor and Sarah Jane, ignoring the tense knot in her gut.

"Although, I have prepared a little 'I was right' dance that I can show you later."

Rose paid the shop-keeper and took her chips.

"All this time you've been claimin' 'he's different!' — when the truth is, he's just like any other bloke!"

"You don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Maybe not, but if I were you… I'd go easy on the chips."

Rose nearly choked on the chip in her mouth, her stomach twisting. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, she's pretty now. Which means she was probably prettier when she was his 'companion', ain't that the word he likes? _Companion_?" Mickey made invisible quote marks in the air when he used the word. "So, maybe he likes his companions young and pretty."

"You can be such a bastard," she snarled, tossing the container of chips on the table. Mickey just grinned and started eating them himself.

Rose sat against the wall, and drew her legs up to her chest, hugging them, trying not to eavesdrop on the Doctor and Sarah Jane, but her heart hurt and she had been walking a razor's edge since before Mickey arrived. The fight with the Doctor had taken a lot out of her, and she wanted to be back in the Vortex, back on some abandoned moon, back in the TARDIS.

"Because you never came back for me. You just… dumped me."

Sarah Jane's voice was shaky, whispering across the mostly-deserted chippy. It was just the four of them and one other man over in the corner who kept looking at K-9 with curiosity.

The Doctor said something back, but he was turned away from Rose and she couldn't hear him.

"I waited for you. I missed you."

Again the Doctor answered, but his response came with a small shrug and shake of his head.

"You _were_ my life."

Rose folded her arms on her bent knees and rested her forehead on her arms. She didn't want to hear any more, and focused instead on something he had told her a lifetime ago.

_"In all the years I've done this, and all the companions I've traveled with, I've never, ever —"_

The little robot dog came to life after that, and things went into fast forward again. Their enemy had a name, and the Doctor knew their plan.

Rose waited until Sarah Jane and Mickey went outside with K-9, lingering behind while the Doctor collected his tools. He didn't look up, didn't make eye contact with her, just cleaned up the table and glanced through the window to the car outside.

"Doctor…" she said softly.

"Yep," he answered, looking over his shoulder at her, but he didn't linger on her, turning to leave. Before he turned away, Rose saw the tight lines around his eyes and the slight down curve of his mouth. She didn't know this face as well, but she could still read him and had learned to read him better and better over the last few weeks.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Everything is fine."

"Doctor!" This time she called after his retreating back, and when he spun around to face her, she actually saw annoyance. And it immediately set her on edge, defensive. She followed him out the door of the chippy. "How many have there been of us traveling with you?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yeah, it does if I'm just the latest in a long line."

"As opposed to what?"

He spun around to face her, his coat fanning out away from his body, the anger in his face making her physically pull back. He'd never looked at her like that before. Angry, yeah… but… hurt? "I thought you and me were…" She couldn't finish the thought. _We were different? We were something important and special. We were something more._ "I obviously got it wrong." His gaze shifted away, as if he couldn't look her in the eyes and answer her questions. Which hurt… hurt more than anything had hurt in a long time. Hurt almost as much as losing him. "I've been to the year five billion, right? But this, this is really seeing the future. You just leave us behind. Is that what you're going to do to me?"

"No," he answered abruptly, his eyes snapping up to meet her gaze before he answered. "Not to you."

She wanted to believe him, but she heard what he said to Sarah Jane. She heard how he'd just dropped her off and never, ever gone back for her. For Sarah Jane it may have been thirty years, but for the Doctor it had been hundreds. "But Sarah Jane… you were that close to her once—"

"No!" He closed the space between them in one long step, his hand gripping her arm, hard enough to steal her breath and make her flinch. Not in fear, never in fear of him. "There is no comparison," he said slowly, his voice metered and raw. "Sarah Jane was important to me, yes, but—"

"But, you cared so much that you just left her?"

"I don't age," he cut her off before she could finish the question, and his expression had shifted from anger to… what?... sadness? "I regenerate. But humans decay. You wither and you die." His voice wavered, just slightly, and Rose felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. "_Imagine_ watching that happen to someone that you —" His tone broke and he faltered.

"What, Doctor?"

"I cared about her, but…" He swallowed hard, his brown eyes staring at her face with an intensity she hadn't seen since they were blue. "You can spend the rest of your life with me."

The Doctor paused, forming his words carefully. Through tight control that tensed his features.

"But I can't spend the rest of mine with you. I have to live on. Alone." He paused, and now she knew she had asked too much, and pushed too hard, because the old familiar pain etched his face and more than ever before in that moment she knew he was the same man. "That's the curse of the Time Lord."

Rose blinked hard, raw and thick emotion choking her. His hand still gripped her arm, and with gentleness, she pulled it away and held it between both her own. His fingers curled around her hand, and she kissed his knuckles, tears sliding free to wet his skin. She heard his breath catch, and moved to him.

His arms wrapped fiercely around her, and he pulled her against him, so tight she had to stand on her tiptoes, his face pressed to her neck. Rose laced her fingers into his hair, holding him as hard as she could. She turned her face into him, kissing whatever skin her lips came into contact with.

The Doctor took a step forward, forcing her to move backward, toward the darker shadows against the building. Then a screeching howl, like nothing Rose had ever heard, echoed through the night. They both looked to the sky over the school as the massive form of one of the Krilitaine swooped down at them, screeching again.

"Doctor!" Rose screamed, yanking at the front of his jacket to tug him closer to the building wall.

The Doctor pulled her against him and brought them closer to the ground, his body between her and the Krillitane. Rose felt the gush of air as the creature flapped its wings, its talons so close she could reach out and touch them before it flew back into the night sky.

"Was that a Krillitane?" Sarah Jane asked, she and Mickey suddenly with them.

Rose gripped the Doctor's arm and hand as he stepped into the street to watch it fly away. "It didn't even touch you. It just flew off. What it do that for?"

He stared into the sky, watching the massive bat-thing fly away. When it was out of sight, he spun around to her. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"You sure?" He didn't wait for the answer before he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her against his side, making her turn with him when he asked the same of Sarah Jane and Mickey.

Rose followed his stare as he looked up again, and saw Mr. Finch — the school principal — standing on the roof ledge, looking down at them. "I don't think it was out for blood," he finally answered to Rose's question. "I think that was a warning… or an invitation."


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

The subtle scent of honeysuckle drifted in the air of Sarah Jane's garden, tucked away behind her home. It was a beautiful cottage with a quaint, yet carefully cared for garden, blooming with honeysuckle, boganvelia and roses. But, he hadn't been able to focus on the surroundings.

They had come to Sarah Jane's when the Doctor said the TARDIS was off limits for the night. When he'd wandered onto the terrace, Mickey was already asleep on Sarah Jane's settee and Rose was nowhere to be seen. Sarah Jane excused herself, saying she would make some tea, and the Doctor had found the door leading outside.

An English Rose sat against the terrace railing, and he cradled a bloom within his hand, stroking the velvety soft petals between his fingertips. He should be contemplating all the possible reasons the Krillitaine would want a school full of human children, and after determining all the reasons, coming up with brilliant ways of stopping them.

But, the Krillitaine were the furthest thing from his mind.

"It's beautiful here."

He spun around at the soft sound of Rose's voice, and his breath caught at the sight of her. _She_ was beautiful, and he never got over how beautiful she really was. Her hair caught the moonlight, and the light from the house created a halo around her. In nine hundred years, he had seen many wondrous and beautiful things, and some had made him pause and appreciate the beauty. But, Rose… there was something so elemental and pure about her.

The Doctor blinked, swallowing. "Yes, it is."

She stepped away from the door and the light shifted, the halo disappearing but the moon lit up her face. "I kind of wish we'd been able to get back to the TARDIS." Her gaze shifted down and she nervously twisted the sterling band she wore on her thumb.

"It wasn't safe."

"I know. I just…" She finally looked up, raising her thumb to her mouth to chew on the cuticle. He hadn't seen her do that since right after his regeneration, when he asked her to come with him again. "I prefer to be home, you know?"

The Doctor smiled, reaching up to take her hand from her mouth, saving her thumb from future torture. He squeezed her fingers gently. "I know. I prefer home, too."

Rose nodded, smiling. The Doctor couldn't recall anyone that had traveled with him referring to the TARDIS as home. He realized he liked that she thought of it that way, because if the TARDIS was her home, then it was _their_ home.

"How very domestic," he said as he leaned in, grinning.

"That's okay?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, it's okay. Better than okay. Better than better."

Rose laughed, but quickly glanced over her shoulder. He assumed she wanted to make sure they hadn't drawn the attention of the two inside. Which was fine with him. He preferred just the two of them.

She stepped closer, lowering her head so he couldn't see her face. Her 'fidgeting' switched attention from her own cuticles to the buttons on his jacket. She probably had no idea what it did to him for her to unbutton the jacket and smooth his tie between her fingers, her knuckles brushing his shirt. He leaned down and lightly rubbed his cheek against her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

"You're not sore with me?" she asked softly.

"No," he answered without hesitation. "Am I forgiven?"

She looked up at him, and he saw the silent war behind her eyes. "You lied to me."

"I know," he admitted. "I didn't see it that way at the time, but I do now, Rose. I know I hurt you, and I hate that. But, Rose… I can't say it won't happen again. I will do anything to keep you safe."

"You should leave the decision to me."

He swallowed and looked down at their joined hands, and her nervous fiddling with his tie. It would be easier to tell her he'd never to it again, to swear to her he would never hide the truth no matter the situation, but he knew _that_ would be a lie. The _truth_ was that he would do _anything_ to keep her safe.

She drew a deep breath, her frame trembling as she released it. "If I ask you a question, right now, will you be honest with me?"

Since right then, there was no great impending danger, he conceded and nodded, looking into her face again.

"You said in your journal that part of the reason you lost so much energy was because it was too soon after your regeneration." He nodded, affirming what she'd read although the spark of anger flared again. Not with Rose. He'd accepted that the TARDIS had given the journals to her, and why, but it didn't make it easier. "How long had it been since you'd regenerated when you and I met?"

The Doctor took hold of her hand and laid it flat against the center of his chest, covering it with his own. The memory was harsh and cruel, burning in the back of his throat. He used their touch, their contact, as a focus point to find an answer. "I don't know," he finally managed to say. "I was dying slowly in the aftermath of the Time War. I had made the choice not to regenerate."

"But you did."

"No." He smirked, arching his eyebrows. "I think you've witnessed by now that our ship can be very opinionated. She gets her way. I refused to regenerate, and eventually lost consciousness. I woke up some time later with a new face."

She smiled. "Daft old face," Rose said with a soft lilt in her voice. "I'm glad she did, I liked it. What did you look like before?"

He pulled a face and shrugged. "Nothing to write home about. There are images stored in the TARDIS of all my past faces, if you want to see them someday. But, I warn you… some of them aren't pretty."

"How long was it after you woke up before you came to London?"

"I can't be sure. I didn't exactly jump into action when I woke up. I was angry. Very angry. And I wanted nothing to do with the Universe."

"But, you did eventually."

"Eventually, yeah."

"You came to save us from the Invasion of the Shop Window Dummies."

"And I was saved by a beautiful young girl who had no problem putting me in my place." He kissed her forehead, holding his lips there for a moment longer than necessary. Then kissed her again before pulling back.

Rose looked up at him, her eyes shifting side to side as she studied his face. He wondered what she looked for, but didn't look away, letting her seek what she needed. "What about now? It hasn't been that long since you regenerated. Just a few weeks. If something happened —"

"Nothing is going to happen."

"Doctor, if something happened would you be okay?"

"Depends on what happened." She scowled and he raised his shoulders in a half shrug. "That's the honest truth, Rose. This last regeneration went badly, you know that. And that's probably because of all the individual events that led up to it, including my absorption of the Time Vortex. But, I feel strong. I feel fine. Unless it was something truly devastating — yeah, I'd be okay."

"You swear?"

He slid their hands to cover his left heart. "I swear." With a grin, he again slid their hands across his chest to his right heart. "I double swear. Double heart-crossed. Can't get a much better swear than that."

Rose smiled, her eyes brightening in the silver light of the moon. He smiled, too, and it felt good. Lighter than it had been in weeks. Rose moved even closer, and he released her hands to embrace her, her hands sliding between his overcoat and his suit jacket. He drew in a slow, metered breath in an attempt to suppress the surge of awareness that her nearness inspired. She tilted her head up, her gaze shifting between his eyes and focusing on his lips.

Rose released a slow breath through her open mouth, her tongue sneaking out to wet her lips. "Do you think it would be rude of us to—"

He didn't let her finish the question, silencing her with the kiss she was about to propose. Rose leaned into him, curling her hands into the back of his jacket and he held her head in his hands to tip her chin and change the angle of the kiss, delving his tongue deep into her open mouth. She groaned and the vibration shot straight down through his body.

Rose pulled harder at his clothes, and together they stepped into the shadows of the terrace until she bumped the honeysuckle-covered trellis. Rose's foot bumped an empty flowerpot, and it tipped over.

They both froze, lips still together, holding their breath. The mixed sounds of blankets being tossed aside and footsteps entering the front room drifted through the open door beside them.

"Did you hear something outside?" Sarah Jane asked Mickey. "Where is the Doctor?"

The Doctor stepped further into the shadows, squeezing himself and Rose into the tight corner. She covered her mouth, trying to stifle a giggle and he hushed her, but he was doing just as bad a job of not laughing.

"Don't know. Feel asleep, I guess," Mickey mumbled, obviously not quite coherent yet. "Where's Rose."

The footsteps approached the door. "Doctor?" Sarah Jane called out. "Doctor, are you there?"

The Doctor grabbed Rose's hand, and with a slight surprised squeal from her, pulled them both out into the light from the front room. "Right here, yep. But, we've got something to take care of, Rose and I." Even as he rambled, he pulled Rose along the terrace to the wall. "We'll be back. A lot to do. Things to check on. You know, save the day kind of stuff."

Without pausing, he sat on the edge of the mortared stone wall surrounding the terrace, separating it from the yard. He swung his legs over and hopped to the ground, holding his arms out to Rose. She was still trying not to laugh, but did the same, twisting on the wall to face him. With her hands on his shoulders, he helped her down, smiling as her body brushed his.

By the time the two of them were on the ground, Mickey and Sarah Jane had crossed the terrace, looking down at them. But, he was already running, pulling Rose along with a shout of "Don't wait up!" over his shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

They ran from the cottage, laughing as they went, and Rose didn't even care where they were going. That was one benefit of living with the Doctor, she always got her cardiovascular work outs. Who needed a gym? She had daily calisthenics running from baddies, and old boyfriends.

Three streets from Sarah Jane's cottage, they found a strip of small restaurants and shops. Finally slowing from the run, they walked together along the sidewalk. Rose smiled so wide, her cheeks hurt, but she didn't care.

"Are you hungry?" the Doctor asked, glancing through the window of one of the small shops. It looked like an ice cream parlour. "I know you had the chips earlier, but…"

"No, I didn't eat much of them. You?"

He looked back at her, a wide grin on his face. "I could eat ice cream." Rose nodded, grinning, and he opened the door to let her pass him. "I love ice cream. Someday, I'm going to find the man who created ice cream and thank him personally. I mean, really! What brilliant sort a man decided to take cream, throw it in a pot with some sugar and salt and stir it up until it becomes the most beloved dessert of all time? It's right up there with edible ball bearings. Brilliant."

"Who said it was a man?"

"Good point, Rose. Very valid point. I've always said you ask the right questions."

Rose only chuckled. That was something she had to get used to, his seemingly endless ability to ramble. And his old self had complained about people gobbing on. It was Karma.

The Doctor reached the counter, still talking, and circled her waist with his arm to pull her against him so they were partially facing each other. She slid her arm beneath his coat to feel the heat trapped beneath it. He caught her laugh and looked down at her, eyebrows arched high.

"Did I say something funny?"

Rose shook her head. "No. Go on, then. What do you want?"

He squinted up at the menu board, mouth open as if that would help. "Can't say I'm a big fan of the swirls and ripples and chunks. I like my ice cream pure, so to speak." Then his face lit up, and he let out a loud "Aha! My good man, my girl and I will have your Super Duper Ultimate Banana Split. With everything. Extra whipped cream and two cherries. Okay, no nuts. I hate nuts. That good?" His attention shifted rapidly from the menu, to the young boy behind the counter, to Rose.

When he looked down at her face, their gazes connected and in a flash of heat, Rose's breath stopped. His eyes shifted to stare at her lips, and Rose decided that of all the ways he looked at her, she loved that look the most. Unshielded. No question what he wanted. His hand slid up her back, pulling her closer.

"That it?" the counter boy asked.

They both nodded, and then the Doctor leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

It was a different kiss than the two they had shared since he'd regenerated. He didn't press, his tongue didn't skim her lips for entrance. It wasn't rushed, or hesitant, or needed, or fueled by their mutual excitement. It just… _was_.

And it was so wonderful it almost brought tears to her eyes.

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They slinked back to Sarah Jane's cottage some time in the small hours of the morning, and the house was quiet. Mickey was asleep on the couch, one arm and one leg hanging off the side, his head tipped back as he snored loudly.

The Doctor walked her to the door of the guest bedroom Sarah Jane had given her for the night, but at the door he stopped, tugging her back to him with their joined hands. Rose tipped her chin up to meet his kiss, bringing her free hand up to lace her fingers into his hair.

She tried not to categorize the differences between the 'Doctor of Yesterday' and the 'Doctor of Today', but sometimes, the differences were so blatantly obvious they were hard to ignore. The talking thing, that was one.

And the kissing.

He was good at kissing before… but now… he was _really really_ good at the kissing. His mouth did things to her she'd only imagined, fantasized about, with just a kiss.

The thought of what he would do with that mouth… Rose's body flashed hot and she trembled in his hold, a soft groan escaping her throat. It took all the strength she had, _literally_ every ounce of control she possessed, to put her hand against his chest and push herself back.

He followed her retreat, his lips still playing havoc with her senses until he hesitantly broke the contact. The Doctor rested their foreheads together, lightly brushing his nose along hers as they both fought for control. His lips were so close to hers, it would be so easy just to lean in again…

"I want to be with you." His voice was like honey over gravel, and it made her tremble again.

Rose nodded, curling her fingers into his coat, angling her body so their hips aligned and she felt the positive proof of his words. Her blood was like fire and ice beneath her skin. She tipped her face to him, and their lips brushed but neither tried to turn it into a kiss. She doubted either of them had that type of control.

"Soon." He audible swallowed, releasing a breath that whispered over her cheek. "I want you in _our_ bed. _Our_ bed, Rose."

"Promise?"

His hands slid up her arms and over her shoulders until he held her face between his hands. The Doctor looked up to the ceiling, his eyes closed, his back against the doorjamb. When he looked at her again, a small, secretive smile bowed his lips.

"Oh, yes. I promise." He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering a little longer than needed. "Get some sleep. Busy day tomorrow."

Rose snorted a laugh. "Like I'm sleeping now."

He laughed to, but they both immediately hushed when Mickey stirred on the couch just feet away. The Doctor stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, and smiled again. He opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something, but in the end he just stepped away.

"Good night, Rose."

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He could have been a GOD.

All the power of Space and Time… all of existence… could have been his.

And he almost took it.

But, the reason he almost did it… now, it made him sick.

It wasn't to bring back the Time Lords… it wasn't to save dozens of worlds and races lost in the War… it hadn't been Finch's arguments about wisdom and power that had him falter.

"_Their lives are so fleeting. So many goodbyes. How lonely you must be, Doctor."_

He could have her forever.

What kind of man had he become?

The TARDIS door opened, and Rose entered followed by Mickey. The Doctor put on the appearance of fiddling with dials and reading the screen in front of him, but a cold vice of failure had a grip on him and he didn't see anything at all.

"I don't get it. Where do you sleep and stuff. I mean, what's here but that big control thing and one worn out chair."

"Don't be stupid, Mickey. This isn't the whole TARDIS."

"What else is there?"

Rose reached the console and the Doctor looked up, his gaze connecting with hers for just a moment. He tried to smile, but had very little faith that it was convincing. She stood beside him, leaning against the edge of the console, just close enough that he felt her presence without them touching.

He hadn't dared touch her since he nearly destroyed everything. The Doctor feared she would feel the darkness in him. Because it was still there, slithering in the corners of his mind, whispering of power beyond imagination. Power beyond the Vortex, power beyond creation and existence.

He swallowed against the bitter bile in his throat.

"There's everything, Mickey. There's a library, and a kitchen, and bedrooms, and…"

"Bedrooms? How many bedrooms?"

She slid a glance to the Doctor, the tip of her tongue stuck between her teeth. Small dimples formed in her cheeks when she smiled. "As many as we need. The TARDIS changes, and she gives us whatever we need. Right, Doctor?"

He nodded, keeping his voice distant and his eyes on the console. "Rose can give you a tour some time. Just stay out of the attic."

"Right now, I'd just be happy with a loo."

"Come on."

The Doctor remained at the console, listening to Mickey's "Oh, my GOD!" from the hallway. A few moments later, Rose returned and came to him, wrapping her arms around his body from behind and he felt her cheek against his back. The Doctor closed his eyes.

"I think he's impressed."

He didn't say anything, flipping on the Core Recoup Oscillator in preparation for leaving. Rose resumed her leaning position against the console, standing just a little closer than before so their arms touched. She looked up at him, and he felt her watching him, waiting for some indication of what he might be thinking.

He hoped she never knew what kind of man he had become. Certainly not a man worthy of her.

He despised himself. He had seen the darkness in himself, and now knew what he was capable of, doubting he could turn down the chance if offered to him once again. He was vile. Unworthy.

And yet, he would not send her away. Add selfish to the list.

"Sarah Jane will be here soon," Rose said softly. "Doctor, I've been thinking about something."

"What's that?"

She covered his hand with hers, pulling it from the Mercury Filter Engage board. "Would you like to ask Sarah Jane to come with us?"

He did look up at that, staring with a squint at Rose. "I thought you… well, I though you didn't care for Sarah Jane."

"I like her well enough. I was just being a stupid git before. Would you?"

As soon as they had landed in London, the Doctor had wished the whole thing to be over so that he and Rose could be off again – just the two of them. He had wanted her to himself, selfishly wanted to take her away where he could hold on to her and be with her as long as possible.

Once again, he remembered just how far he almost took his selfishness.

"It might be nice. Just for a bit."

She smiled. "Okay."

He shifted his gaze to the surveillance monitor, and saw Sarah Jane approach just as Mickey came back into the console room.

"I nearly got lost between your bedroom and here!" he declared loudly.

"I wouldn't recommend trying to find the pool, then," the Doctor said just loud enough for Rose to hear, and she stifled her laugh. Just for a moment, a brief flash, he let himself enjoy it.

Sarah Jane refused them, but in the end they had a new shipmate – Mickey Smith. The Doctor had seen the annoyance in Rose's face when he said yes, but it was for the best. Give her a distraction. Give her the option.

Give him time.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

"Hyperplex this side, plate glass the other. We need a truck."

Rose listened to the Doctor, but stared through the mirror into the ballroom beyond. Reinette was on her knees, held by two of the Clockwork Men.

"We don't have a truck," Mickey said, stating the obvious.

"I know we don't have a truck!" Frustration strained the Doctor's voice.

Rose turned back to them. Her pulse pounded, and she couldn't catch her breath, just as desperate to help Reinette as the Doctor. She couldn't stand the thought of just watching the woman die. "We've got to do _something_."

"No. Smash the glass, smash the time window, there'd be no way back."

Rose snapped her head around to look directly at his face, and she saw it as clearly as if he held up a sign. _I'm off to save her, the rest be damned_.

"No!" she cried before she could even think about stopping herself. Rose lunged at him as he started toward one of the hallways leading from the room.

They were both in the hall before she caught up with him, grabbing the sleeve of his suit jacket. He slowed but didn't stop, and Rose pulled at him with both hands until he turned to face her, his face set firm as stone.

"No!" she demanded again. "You can't! Doctor, you can't!"

"I have to."

"Why?"

"You said yourself, Rose, we have to do something. You can't watch her die any more than I can."

"But, you're going to leave us here." Her voice caught even as she tried to argue. She cleared her throat and held firm to his jacket as he tried to move away again. "What makes her more important than us. Than _me_."

That made him stop, his eyes snapping to her face, darting rapidly side-to-side and she could almost hear the argument going on in his head. A hard breath shuddered through him as he released it, and he pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her so tightly that she had to stand on her toes so she could breath. Rose held on because she didn't know what else to do.

A scream echoed through the mirror in the other room. His hold tightened.

He laid his cheek against the side of her hair so he could speak without looking at her. "She's a fixed fact in history, Rose. Madame du Pompadour does not die at thirty-seven. I don't know what would change if she does. Perhaps nothing. Perhaps everything."

"But, if I die in space nothing changes?"

"You won't —" His voice choked, and he pulled back to hold her face in his hands, looking straight into her eyes. "Listen to me, Rose. I _will_ be back. I swear to you on everything that I am, everything I have _ever_ cared for, and _everything_ I have ever held faith in. Have faith in me. I will come back for you. Even if it takes thirty-two hundred years."

"I don't want you to go. Please, Doctor…"

His eyes slid closed and he rested his forehead against hers, drawing a slow breath. "If I lost you, _everything_ would change." Then his lips covered hers for just a heartbeat before he bolted away, leaving her swaying in his wake. Rose closed her eyes and sank to the hallway floor amongst the cables and broken parts.

The rhythmic clump-clump of Arthur's hooves echoed on the metal ship floors, and the horse whinnied sharply before the mirror shattered and the sound of falling glass filled her ears.

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"Is this what he does?"

Rose didn't answer, just sat on the TARDIS jump seat and stared at the silent console. She hadn't even bothered try to get any response from the ship, because she knew it would be useless.

_Not yet_.

Even as she had reached for the first control, hoping to garner some response, the voice had nudged in her mind just as it had in the library.

_Not yet._

"Rose, did you hear me? Does the Doctor just leave you behind like this? With no way to get home?"

"Shut up, Mickey." She knew it wasn't his fault, but right then, she had no one else to lash out on. And he just wouldn't let it go.

"Why're you sore at me? I'm not the one who stranded us here."

Rose closed her eyes, and drew her knees up to her chest, resting her cheek on her denims. "He'll be back."

"And I'm not the one who chose Madam of the Big Hair over you."

"Shut up!" she shouted, keeping her head down.

"Yeah, wha'eva. That's fine. Be sore at me, but eventually you'll figure out I'm the one here and not him."

Rose shot out of the jump seat, her feet hitting the grating with a loud bang. Mickey stood a few feet away, leaning back on the padded railing with his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his face. She stood her ground, fists clenched at her side. "You've been here, what, all of a day, Mickey? You don't know anything about him, or what he does, or what he _has to do_. You think you know because of the stories I tell you, you think you know because you did what he said when he told you to fire a rocket? He has had to do to things…" Rose's throat tightened and she choked on her words.

Mickey pulled his lips tight and glared at her, but Rose wasn't about to back off now. Right now, she hated him. It wasn't fair, but she hated him. "You. Don't. Know."

"Why don't you tell me, Rose?"

_How could she even begin to tell him something she only pretended to understand?_ "He lost everything." Tears burned in her eyes and she blinked, refusing to look away from him. Mickey stared back, but under her glare, he finally lowered his head and cleared his throat. "Everything, Mickey. Not just…" She cleared her throat and huffed a breath, looking upward to where the engine piston disappeared into the TARDIS ceiling. "_Everything_."

"Thing is, Rose… you make it sound like the two of you are like destiny, or something. I'm not thick. I know what's going on. I don't know how long, but I know what."

"Good for you…" _Because you know more than me_.

"So, if you and him are this great thing… and he's got nothin' else… why has he been sniffin' up the french slag? Seems to me the Doctor can't keep his plonker in his trousers. Who's the gooseberry now, Rose? Me?" His expression softened, but it didn't help with the sting.

"Is this why you came with us?" Her voice was barely a whisper, but she couldn't force it to be any louder.

"I came because I wanted to see what was so great that made you take off with an alien in a stupid little blue box. What made you leave your mum…" He paused, looking down at the grating. "And me."

"And?"

"And all I've seen is him… leaving you behind." Mickey took a step toward her, and she flinched, but didn't move. "And I don't like it."

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The TARDIS was quiet, hovering in the Vortex. The lights were dim, mimicking night for the supposedly sleeping passengers. Mickey's bedroom had appeared, although it was most definitely separated from the rooms clustered around the console room, and as far as Rose knew he was sleeping.

She wasn't about to check.

He could go to hell as far as she was concerned, and take the Doctor with him.

At first, Rose'd been ecstatic... thankful he'd come back so quickly. Then he'd ordered her into the TARDIS and gone off to bring Reinette. After all that talk about not risking the timelines, and fixed events in history, he'd planned on taking her with them. If her dying at thirty-seven wasn't part of history, Rose was pretty bloody damn sure Madame du Pompadour disappearing one night with the imaginary friend from her fireplace wasn't part of history either.

But, time had fluxed and Reinette was dead... and he came back alone. Devastated.

Rose wondered if he'd looked that devastated in France when he believed he couldn't come home.

She sat now curled up in the library's big leather chair, her head resting against the wingback, staring into the fire the TARDIS had been sweet enough to provide. The room was warm, warmer than usual for the TARDIS. Rose was used to a slight nip in the air... not cold... but not toasty warm either. Tonight, the heat felt good.

She heard him on the stairs, each footfall heavy as he descended. Rose didn't say anything, remaining curled up in the chair. She was beyond tears at this point, she felt like all she'd done for weeks was cry and frankly, she was sick of it.

Rose closed her eyes, and imagined each move he made as she heard the soft grate of chair legs across the floor, followed by the hum of the sonic screwdriver and the slow drag of the desk drawer opening. Leather creaked as the cursed journal was opened, the journal she'd demanded of him and he'd tossed on the desk.

_Damn journals_. She almost wished the TARDIS hadn't showed them to her.

The scratch of writing mingled with the crackle of the fire, and Rose just listened. Just by the length of time she heard the scratching, she knew he wrote more now than in his previous body. Which made sense, since he talked a lot more.

And said not much of anything.

Rose pushed her hand against her forehead, pushing back her hair that still hung on to some of the dampness from her shower. "Are you writing about her?" she asked softly.

The scratching stopped cold.

"I didn't know you were here."

"Obviously." Rose unfolded herself from the chair and stood, turning to face the desk tucked in the back of the library. "Course, if you'd been lookin' for me... you might have found me. But, lookin' for me after everything that happened... and hasn't happened..." His eyes darted away from her briefly, and she knew _he_ knew exactly what she meant. "Then leavin' me all on my own in space without you... why would you look for me?"

"You're here and safe. I didn't need to." His tone was condescending, and he hadn't spoken to her like that in months, not since before they became lovers. It hurt worse than she wanted to admit.

She swallowed and shook her head. "No. Course not."

"Mickey is here."

"What's that got to do with anything?" she snapped out. "I didn't ask you to bring 'im, and he isn't the one..." She stuttered off, unable to finish with _he isn't the one I wanted to be with_.

He set the thing that looked kind of like a pen into the crease of the book and closed it, the binding protesting at the foreign object, and sat up straighter. "I suppose you'll demand to read it." His voice was cold, sharp, and it made Rose's nerves bristle.

She wanted to come back with an equally sharp-edged response, but found she just didn't have the energy for it. Rose was hollow, numb, and confused. In the end, she just shook her head and looked down at the burnished brass brads along the edging of the chair.

"No, Doctor." Rose picked up the small blanket she had brought with her from her bedroom. Her chest hurt - no - her heart hurt. She didn't look at him as she walked past. "Your secrets are safe. Why on earth would you want to share anything with me?"

His hands slammed down on the desk as he stood, the legs of the chair scrapping across the floor when he shoved back. "_This_… this is exactly why I never, _ever_ let things get so complicated with my companions."

His words hit her like a shove to the back, and she paused on the stairs, turning slowly. "Complicated? Don't you mean _domestic_, Doctor?"

"Call it what you will. It's the same thing."

"Just a couple nights ago, you seemed to like the idea of domestic."

His expression softened just slightly, and he looked away, but didn't confirm or deny anything she said. Rose wrapped her arms over her body, feeling a chill despite the fire. A weight wrapped around her, and nudged at her mind, and she took a shuddered breath within the TARDIS' embrace. She felt the unease in the ship, and looked to the Doctor, wondering if he felt the same thing. If he did, he wasn't letting on. Or maybe, this was just for Rose. The ship was like a child who didn't like it when her parents fought, and she sought comfort.

_I'm sorry_. Rose whispered it in her head, unable to say it aloud.

"This wasn't supposed to be about…" The Doctor trailed off, swirling his hand in the air as if trying to encompass whatever it was he was thinking. "I asked you to come with me to share the Universe. Not—"

"Your bed?"

He still refused to look at her, looking past the foot of the stairs to the stacks of books beyond. A scowl had taken over his expression, and she missed the gentle smiles… suddenly painfully so.

"Yet, you never said no." The pain needed a release, and she would be damned if she would stand here and let him make her feel cheap. She'd gotten enough of that from people who looked at her and assumed the worst, she didn't need and couldn't take it from someone who knew her the way he did. "You forget, Doctor. As much as you hate that I read them, I read those journals. I know what you wrote."

"Then you know I knew it was wrong."

"Why? _Why_ is it wrong?"

"It's not supposed to be like this!" he shouted, finally looking back at her.

"You're right, Doctor. It's not."

Rose started back up the stairs. She couldn't see through the tears welled in her eyes, and the weight on her shoulders nearly kept her from taking each step. The TARDIS was trying to hold her back. She shook her head, looking up at the dark shadows of the ceiling above them. "I'm done."

"Wait." She heard his trainers on the first two steps. "What do you mean?" Rose continued up the stairs, knowing that if she stopped now, she wasn't sure she could start moving again. "Rose! What do you mean?"

At the top of the staircase, she did finally stop and turned to look down at him. He stood three steps from the bottom, his hand on the thick wood railing. Deep furrows dug into his forehead, his brow pulled tight together to form a 'v' between his eyes. She couldn't tell from there if the look was anger, or panic. Neither of which she figured he had the right to feel.

"I mean, Doctor, that I am very tired and I am done trying to..." Her voice caught and she stopped. Words refused to form, thoughts refused to register, and she finally gave up. With him still standing at the bottom of the library stairs, Rose walked down the hall to her bedroom.

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He stood there long after he heard Rose's bedroom door close with a soft click.

Part of him almost wished she had really yelled at him. But, the defeat in her eyes was worse than anything she could have said to him.

The worst of it was that he knew that he was wrong. No question. No doubt.

He knew he could never ask her to leave... but, he wouldn't make her stay.

Finally, he turned away from the stairs and went back to the desk. Using one hand, he opened the journal again.

_I didn't realize what I was doing while I was doing it, but looking back, I both understand my actions and see just how bloody stupid I am. I don't have the strength to tell her to leave, to admit that I'm so incredibly unworthy of her companionship and affection, but I don't have the right to ask her to stay if she wants to go._

_So, I tested her resolve for staying with me. I almost didn't go after Reinette. She asked me to stay, and I almost did. _

_Question now is_

The writing stopped there, because she had spoken.

The Doctor picked up the pen, swirling it through his fingers as he stared down at his own words. With a heavy hand, he slashed a line through what he had written, and in the space below, wrote three words in large, hard, block letters.

_I lost her._


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Rose wasn't asleep, just hovering on the edge of consciousness where her thoughts still ran at a thousand miles an hour but she was no longer tossing and turning, fighting a silent battle with the bedding. She stared up at the ceiling, trying to picture herself back in London, back in her mother's flat, back in some shop somewhere because those were the only prospects she had.

And the entire idea made her head hurt and left her feeling heavy and depressed.

But, she couldn't just keep going like this. She'd let a bloke determine her life before. The biggest mistake Rose ever made was leaving school for Jimmy Stone. She'd always done well in school, and could have gone on to her A-levels, but she'd let a stupid musician turn her head and destroy her life. When she'd finally gathered enough courage to leave him, she was in debt £800 and ashamed of herself.

Leaving the Doctor wouldn't be the same. Her mother would welcome her home, tell her it was about time she got her head out of the clouds - or the Time Vortex - and life was much safer on Earth, anyway. She could live a normal life... the life he'd sent her back to Earth to live when he thought there was no other choice.

But, Sarah Jane had said it. _How do you go back?_

A sound along the side of her bed, like tiny feet running, yanked her from her thoughts and she sat up, staring into the darkness. The room had been dark for long enough that she could make out the shapes of her furniture and the open door to her bathroom. Another scuffling sound at the foot of the bed had Rose pushing herself up against the headboard.

"Doctor?" she called into the darkness. "S'at you? 'Cuz, if it is, you're so not funny."

"Not him," came a tiny voice, childlike, from the foot of her bed.

Rose's heart pounded viciously and her breath caught. Never _ever_ had she felt fear within the TARDIS. Here, nothing could touch her. Nothing could hurt her.

"No monsters." The voice was high pitched and lyrical, like a little girl singing. "Not here. I lock them away, and keep you safe."

"Oh, god," Rose whispered. Two tiny hands, pale in the darkness, slid over the blankets near her feet. Rose froze, unable to move or breathe. Then a small blonde head peeked over the edge at her, dark eyes watching her.

"No fear, Beautiful Rose."

"Wh-who are you? What d'you want?"

The little girl, because that's exactly what she was - a little blonde-haired human girl with wide eyes, and an innocent smile, dressed in a yellow sundress - climbed onto the bed and sat cross-legged beside Rose. The lights in the room came on low, just enough to create darker shadows in the corners.

"He is very cross with me," the little girl said, making a face as she shook her head. "Very, very cross. He won't even talk to me. Ignores me and bangs. Always bangs. Bang! Bang! Bang!" She mimicked the action of the Doctor banging the console with one of his rubber mallets.

"Do you mean the Doctor? Why?"

The girl tilted her head, her blonde hair falling across her cheek, and she pouted, whispering. "I told secrets. I'm not supposed to tell his secrets."

Rose squinted at the little girl, studying her. The girl looked at her through incredibly thick lashes, and Rose gasped at the impossibly dark blue of her eyes. So dark, the irises almost disappeared in the color. As dark as… the TARDIS! "Are you... you're... Am I dreamin'?"

"Nope," the child said with glee, bouncing on the bed. "Not sleeping, that's why I came. We need to take care of him, Clever Rose." The way the child said 'him', Rose heard the weight and importance of that simple name... He was everything.

"And you're just who I think you are, aren't you? You like somehow the ... the TARDIS?"

She nodded. "We need to talk, and this is much easier."

Rose stared at the child, convinced she had to be in some bizarre dream. Then she remembered... in the library... when she felt the TARDIS' concern over their fighting. She'd thought to herself that the TARDIS was like a child who didn't want her parents to fight.

"Is the Doctor hurt?" _Why else would the TARDIS come to her like this?_ Rose tossed back the blankets, freeing her legs to get out of bed.

The girl grabbed Rose's hand, pulling her back, and Rose was stunned by the warmth of the child's skin. So human. "Body, no." She released Rose and laid both her hands against the front of her dress. Immediately, her eyes welled with tears and her lower lip quivered. "Here... so much pain. So much, Precious Rose."

"Why are you using my name like that? Precious Rose… Clever Rose?"

"The names he doesn't say. Precious Rose. Beautiful Rose. Clever Rose. Forever Rose." The girl scooted closer and leaned in. Single tear tracks ran down her cheeks, but a spark had returned to her eyes. "_Our_ Rose."

A gentle, easy warmth burst in Rose's chest, spreading into her limbs, drawing a smile on her lips. The TARDIS in child form squeezed Rose's hand, nodding exuberantly. "Yes! Yes! See? Precious Beautiful Forever Clever Rose." The happy smile wiped from her face in an instant, immediately deadly serious again. "Please. Stop his pain. I'm not enough."

Rose looked down at their joined hands, still trying to wrap her brain around the fact that she was sitting on the bed _talking_ with the _TARDIS_. How could she explain that she didn't want him to hurt... she didn't want any of that... but she'd run out of energy. She didn't know what else to do. What else to say. And he'd made it fairly clear that he didn't want things the way they had been.

"No! No!" the girl cried, scurrying even closer to Rose they were almost nose-to-nose. Rose had a brief moment of thinking the little girl smelled of sunshine and fresh air, like a child who had been playing outside all day long. "He doesn't understand. He's forgotten."

"Forgotten?"

"Yes. Forgotten how."

"I don't understand."

The girl stood up on the bed, the mattress bouncing a little under her slight weight. Slowly she turned in a circle, in a singsong voice "All the skies, all the stars, all the was places and all the will be places... He plays. He seeks and finds. He worships beauty and wonder." The girl dropped to her knees beside Rose, her face serious again, her tiny brow pulled low in a frown. "He runs, Precious Rose. He runs and runs and runs so fast, but he is lost."

The conviction in the girl's voice caught in Rose's throat, and she blinked. The words were a riddle, dancing around the truth, but despite that she understood. Just like the TARDIS heard her arguments in her mind before she said them, maybe the TARDIS could help her understand.

"He is so alone, Beautiful Rose. Don't let him be alone."

"I don't think he wants —"

She covered Rose's mouth with her tiny hand. "Yes, yes he does! He has forgotten what it means not to be alone. So long, he has been alone."

She took her hand away, and Rose saw the tears in her eyes again. "He's had you. He told me that you took care of him after the War."

The girl covered her face with her hands, and a small sob shook her tiny body. "So horrible! So much screaming! So much dying! I took him away — far far away — but, never far enough." When she raised her head again, her cheeks were damp with her tears. "He cried, Clever Rose. He screamed at me and he yelled at me, and he told me to do things I couldn't."

"Like what?" Rose asked, almost afraid to know.

She took Rose's hand, holding it between her two tiny ones, and Rose had the urge to hug her, and smooth her hair the way her mum did when she was little and couldn't understand why everyone else had a daddy, and she didn't.

"He wanted to go away forever, to leave me alone."

"To die," Rose confirmed.

She nodded, sniffling loudly. "He was angry with me then, too. I wasn't his beautiful ship. I was his stupid machine."

The pain in the child's eyes broke Rose's heart, and she had to believe the Doctor had never seen his ship like this. If he had, he never would have said such things. If he had, he would have seen just how much his stolen time machine loved him.

She nodded, gripping Rose's hand. "He is all things, Forever Rose. He is father. And brother. And…" She seemed to struggle for the right word. "He is _Cusa Ju Bibilia'a_"

"What does that mean? Is that his language?"

She nodded, her smile soft and full of adoration. "It is him."

"Why can't you translate?"

She scowled. "Another secret. So many secrets. And he gets angry when I tell his secrets." Then her expression grew serious again. "Please, Beautiful Rose. Please don't leave because of his secrets. We are three. We are one. Precious Rose."

The TARDIS suddenly pitched, nearly dumping Rose from her bed, and an awful screech like nails on a blackboard echoed off the walls. She blinked in the darkness, and realized she was alone. The lights were dim again, and the little blonde-haired manifestation of the TARDIS was gone.

Rose wondered if she had been there at all.

Her room leveled and Rose threw back her covers, rounding the end of the bed to reach the door. The hallway was quiet and dark, like someone had turned off all the lights. There wasn't even any light from the kitchen and the library was pitch black, the fire long gone.

Rose looked toward the console room door, and only there did she see a faint crack of light. She crossed the hall and eased the door open, looking into the control center of the ship.

The Doctor sat on the jump seat, hunched over, his elbows resting on his knees and his head hanging low. The shattered remains of some part of the TARDIS lay scattered at his feet, with one of his mallets lying beside it.

_Very, very cross. He won't even talk to me. Ignores me and bangs. Always bangs. Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Pain laced the air like humidity on a hot summer day. Rose breathed it in, and it filled her, weighed her down.

_Please._

Never, ever had she seen him looking so... broken.

She walked tentatively to the jump seat, stopping to stand beside him. "Doctor," she said softly, but he didn't move. She hesitated for only a heartbeat before combing her fingers through his unruly hair. "Doctor."

He didn't raise his head, but reached out to lay his hands on her hips and shift her until she stood in front of him within the space between his knees. His hands dropped wearily from her hips, just touching the backs of her legs as if the brush of contact was all he could manage, and he rested his forehead against her stomach. A deep, rustling sigh shifted through him that turned into a shuddered breath that shook his shoulder, and Rose swallowed hard.

"You've ruined me, Rose." She almost didn't catch his words, but when they registered, tension shot through her and she moved back. But, his hands splayed across the backs of her thighs, keeping her from moving. The Doctor kept his head down, his forehead resting against her, but Rose let her hands drop. "I can never go back to being the man I was. I thought… I thought that was bad." He rolled his head against her. "I don't know how to be without you."

_He doesn't understand. He's forgotten. _

_He runs, Precious Rose. He runs and runs and runs so fast, but he is lost_.

"Will you look at me?" She touched his hair, running her fingers around his ear to his cheek. Unable to see his face, her hands sought his chin, and tried to urge him to look up, but he wouldn't. He pressed closer to her.

"I don't know how to do this."

Every word he spoke sounded like a practice in torture, as if it pained him to speak each word. His voice was raw, scraping, haggard… almost lost. He sounded confused, and that wasn't the Doctor. He was brilliant, and never ever unsure of himself even when he had no solution.

Rose looked up, tamping down the raging turmoil in her chest. Her fingers continued to stroke his hair, finding comfort herself in the contact. "Do what, Doctor?"

His fingers curled into the loose flannel of her pyjama pants.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His voice was so low and rough, she almost didn't hear him. His hands slid up the backs of her legs until they reached the small of her back, holding her just a little tighter and closer. "I'm sorry," he said again, and Rose realized with a clenching of her heart, that he was crying.

"Oh, Doctor." She curled as best she could to wrap her arms around him in the awkward position because he seemed reluctant to release his hold. He only allowed enough shift in position to press against her chest, and she held him there. She kissed his head, stroking his hair. "S'ok. Honest. It's okay."

He turned his head so his face pressed into the hollow of her shoulder, and he wrapped his arms all the way around her. His breath was hot against her skin, and his tears slicked the contact.

She tried again to make him look at her, but he eased back from the hard hold he had on her, only to lean back in the jump seat with his head resting on the back and one arm thrown across his eyes. Beneath the brown sleeve of his jacket, she saw the shine of moisture on his cheeks. Rose moved as close as she could to the seat, nudging her body between his legs so she could lay her hands on his chest.

Through the layers of clothes she felt the rioting, uneven beat of his hearts. With a gentle, insistent touch she managed to get him to move his arm. His dark brown eyes shifted to look at her, but his gaze didn't linger long before dropping away. For all the world, he reminded her of a little boy… ashamed of what he'd done, unable to admit it, afraid of what would happen if he did.

She tried a different tactic. "When was the last time you slept?"

He sniffed, and covered her hand with his own where it rested on his chest. "I don't know."

"Rough idea."

"Some time after Scotland."

"Blimey, Doctor," she scolded gently. "I know you don't need to sleep as much as I do, but that's nutters. Come on."

She stepped away from him, but held out her hand. His eyes shifted from her outstretched hand to her face, and she smiled. She put everything she could into that smile, and wiggled her fingers just as he had on Christmas Day.

"Come on, then. Mum says that everything is clearer after a good night's sleep."

He took her hand and rolled to his feet as she walked away, following behind. In the hallway, she led him to the closed door of his bedroom and into the darkness beyond. But, she didn't need a light. She knew this room as well as she knew the one down the hall, and could navigate in the dark no problem.

Silently, she reached out in the darkness and unbuttoned the front of his jacket, letting it fall to a heap on the floor. He toed off his trainers, and together they pulled back the bed covers. Rose laid down, and reached into the darkness. His hand closed around hers and he followed her into the bed. His body shifted the bed and he stretched out beside her. But, he didn't pull her to him the way she expected, but laid his head beneath her breasts.

Her breath caught when he found the hem of her tank and pushed it up until he skin was exposed, and rested his palm against her stomach. His thumb stroked around her bellybutton and a slow, tired breath moved through him as he nuzzled against her. Rose stroked his hair and let her hands smooth over his shoulders. A few minutes later, the tension on his body eased and the slow stroke on her stomach stopped. Each breath was longer, deeper, and she knew he'd slipped into a rare, deep sleep.

Rose looked up at the ceiling, and smiled when she saw that tonight instead of vaulted wood panels, she saw a starscape. It was beautiful.

"I don't know if I dreamed you, or not," she whispered softly. "But, I think I understand. I won't leave him alone."

The image of a shooting star lit up the starscape.

Not long after, Rose followed the Doctor into sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

"Ouch!" The Doctor waved his hand in the air before sticking his finger in his mouth, sucking on the burned tip. "You could have helped, you know," he mumbled under his breath, going back to his painfully pathetic attempt at flipping Rose's pancake without completely destroying it.

Smug silence was his answer.

"A lot of bloody good you are."

_You deserve it. Retribution._

"What'd I do now?"

_Bang! Bang! Bang! Broke my Residual Energy Filter. Little bits._

"I said I'd fix it."

_Burning._

"Burning? What's burning? Oh, bloody hell!"

He shoved the skillet back from the heat, the edges of the pancake smoking slightly. The smell of melted, burned chocolate tickled in his nose.

He was nearly useless when it came to cooking, usually only managing toast and the occasional sandwich. For years, he just relied on nutritional supplements the TARDIS provided or whatever he snatched up on whatever world he was on. But, Rose liked to 'eat in' and he'd gotten better. But, flipping pancakes was... a fate worse than death.

But, on special occasions, Rose liked to indulge in a sweet breakfast. And today was just about as special an occasion as they'd ever had on the TARDIS.

"You could have told me earlier. First, you hide the coffee, and don't think I don't know it was you who put the soap in my trainers." He glanced down at his bare feet. "It was just a silly filter. I hardly think it deserves these silly little practical jokes."

_Yelled at Precious Rose. Made her cry._

His fingers stilled in the pot of powdered sugar, closing his eyes for a brief moment. His ship's words hit hard and true. "Yes, I did." He returned to sprinkling pinches of the sugar over the pancakes. "I apologized. And I meant it." The Doctor swallowed hard, remembering her coming to him in the small hours. She had come when his resolve was the lowest, and perhaps that was the best time she could have been there.

He hadn't had the strength to put on the angry, affronted facade anymore. Because he wasn't angry, he was terrified. Of losing her, and that was something he'd never known before. Panic at the thought of losing a companion. And he wasn't that sore with the TARDIS anymore. She'd been doing what she thought was right.

_Have to keep Forever Rose._

"I hope so."

"Who're you talking to?"

The Doctor He looked over his shoulder at Mickey, who stood in the kitchen doorway looking rumpled and tired.

"The TARDIS. Who else would I be talking to?" He sucked the residual sugar off his fingers. "Really, Mickey," he said with a disappointed shake of his head.

"Always thought you were a little nutters. Now you're talking to nuthin'," Mickey mumbled. "You got coffee?"

"Some left in that pot there." He jerked his head toward the half-empty brew pot as he tried to fit everything on a bed tray. "And I'd be careful what I say, Mickey. She's easily offended. You might find your bedroom much smaller and tucked in behind the waste disposal."

Mickey seemed to see the tray for the first time, and scowled. "Where's Rose?"

"Still asleep. No rush to be up and about. No place to be." He picked up the tray, precariously balancing it so the tea didn't dump into the pancakes or upset the strawberries. He turned to leave, but Mickey stood in his way, scowling.

"She in her room, then?"

The Doctor sighed and set the tray down. "The only stupid questions, Mickey, are the questions you already know the answer for."

"How the hell'd you convince her to forgive you?"

"That is between Rose and I, and I'm _not_ discussing it with you." He picked the tray up again, hoping Mickey got the point. "If this is going to be a problem, my next trip will be to take you back to London. That perfectly clear? I won't have it."

Mickey stepped out of the way and the Doctor headed for the door. Then, Mickey called after him, and he turned back. "What?" he snapped.

"You love her, then."

He would have liked to have been annoyed with the question, but the Doctor reminded himself that Mickey had loved Rose for a long time. And he couldn't fault the boy for caring about her, even if she wasn't now and never would be with him again. The Doctor released his annoyance and sighed.

"I'm not going to answer that question."

"Why not? Cuz you don't? Cuz she's just a—"

"Don't even _say_ it, Mickey Smith." He made sure his voice relayed every subtle threat that existed. "Don't even think it."

"Then why won't you answer my question," Mickey demanded.

"Because, when I say it, she's going to be the first to hear it." He took a step backward to exit the kitchen into the hall. "Not you."

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The sensation of touch was the first thing to break through Rose's veil of sleep, and if she ever had to name a preferred way to be pulled from her dreams, the exploring touch of long, elegant fingers on her stomach would be right up near the top.

She drew in a long, deep breath and stretched out on her back, reaching her arms over her head. As she released a small groan, she opened her eyes and smiled.

He was stretched out beside her, scooted down so his head fell just level with her breasts, supporting his weight on one elbow. His attention focused solely on his other hand, and where it rested on her bare stomach. Studying each action carefully, he spread his fingers out to splay his hand to its full span. The heel of his hand rested just below her bellybutton, and the tips of his longest fingers skimmed the edge of her pushed-up tank.

Rose watched him, smiling wider at the inquisitive, fascinated look in his eyes. Rumpled brown hair fell over his forehead, making him look even more studious. He shifted his hand to slide his palm across her stomach until his fingers curled around her rips and his thumb stroked her skin.

Her breath hitched and she shifted into the touch, her eyes fluttering. The Doctor looked to her face, his eyes dark and his mouth slightly parted. "My hands are bigger," he said as if this were some amazingly fascinating discovery that had him awed. "I can lay my hand almost entirely across your body. I couldn't quite do that before." He shrugged, his lower lip protruding for a moment. "Not that I really thought about trying, but I'm pretty sure my hand was in that position at some point. And I distinctly remember _not_ being able to touch quite so much of you at the same time."

Rose swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat, and her pulse pounded out a chaotic staccato. "D-did you discover anything else different?"

His gaze was on her face, intense and unwavering. Holding her stare, he shifted to bring their faces closer, his body angling just slightly over hers. "Your skin."

"What about my skin?"

"I think my hands were rougher before. Were they rougher?"

Rose was having a hard time thinking at all, because his hand had slid just a little further under her tank, and if she shifted just enough, his fingertips would touch her breasts. Her skin tingled, hot and cold at the same time, and her breasts were heavy and aching for touch.

She finally nodded, realizing he'd asked the question. "A little, yeah. Not… bad."

This seemed to confirm his theory, because he smiled and nodded himself. "I thought so. Your skin… I can really feel the softness. The smoothness. It's like, I could before… but now…" The lightness in his expression slid away, replaced by something more serious, as if he'd just remembered something very important. "Rose, I don't want you to leave."

His hand had stilled, and Rose wiggled closer to him, groaning softly. "You see me goin' anywhere?"

Then he moved his hand completely from her side, laying his warm palm against her cheek, his thumb bracing her chin. "Ever, Rose. I don't want you to leave me. I've never…" He shook his head, drawing in a breath through his teeth. "I've never asked anyone to stay when I thought they wanted to go. I've never asked anyone to stay when I knew they would. I've always…" Again, he shook his head. "I've never wanted anyone to stay with me. I know we can't have forever, Rose, but—"

Rose raised her head from the pillow, silencing him with her lips. His hand slid behind her head, supporting her and returned the kiss – slowly, with careful intent, and the simple pleasure of his mouth against hers, without moving, shot bolts of arousal through her.

The Doctor took his hand from her cheek and her head eased back into the pillow, his mouth never leaving hers. He bracketed her sides with his hands and shifted to slide his body up hers, settling slightly over her. Rose found the hem of his shirt, his suit jacket still on the floor somewhere, and moaned with pleasure when she touched skin and could push the shirt up to press her hands to his back.

Only then did he open his lips, and Rose matched his move, arching off the bed when his tongue slipped into her mouth to make contact with her own. His mouth hovered over hers, lips barely touching, and Rose sucked in air in rapid bursts. She opened her eyes, and saw him watching her with the same intensity he had once had with blue eyes. With a flutter around her heart, Rose realized it really didn't matter. Honestly, really and truly didn't matter. He could regenerate again tomorrow, and she would still love him.

"Forever is what we make of it, yeah?" she said softly.

He smiled, and kissed her through the smile. As his mouth moved along her jaw to find the sweet spot beneath her ear, Rose gasped and hung on while her senses short-circuited. With his mouth discovering the curve of her throat, the Doctor reached behind him to grip the collar of his shirt, drawing back from her only long enough to pull the shirt over his head on one long action. Then she had free access to his body, her hands seeking and finding the two spots on his back where his dual hearts beat against her palms.

The Doctor's fingers skimmed her stomach and sides before finally pushing the tank further up her body, baring her breasts. Her nipples hurt they ached so badly, hard and needy. He paused over her, his breath warm on her skin, his gaze skimming over the two mounds before finally seemingly choosing one. Slowly, painfully achingly slowly, he drew his tongue over the peak and Rose trembled. She gasped loudly when he covered the same nipple with his mouth, sucking just hard enough to send electrical shocks through her.

"Doctor!" she cried out.

His hands moved beneath the bunched thank and he pushed it up her arms, his palms warm and firm against her skin, until the restrictive clothing was gone – chucked away in the direction of his shirt.

Then skin met skin and Rose closed her eyes, clinging to him. The Doctor pressed his face into the curve of her throat, sliding his body along hers, and she felt him speak against her skin but couldn't hear what he said. His hand splayed against her stomach again, sliding down her body and under the waistband of her pyjama bottoms to wrap around the curve of her hips.

He shifted his weight over her to settle between her thighs, the friction through their clothes sending another sharp jolt through her. The Doctor pushed his hips against her, his large hand covering her breast to squeeze gently.

She was breathing hard, heat pooling in her center, and need thumped in her ears to the rhythm of her pounding heart. The Doctor raised his head, a smile dimpling his cheeks as he looked down at his hand.

"That's different."

"Wh-what?" she managed to ask, wiggling beneath him to increase the friction.

With a look of glee like a child with a new toy, the Doctor actually _jiggled_ her breast in his hand. He grinned at her wildly. "It fits _perfectly_ in my hand. _Perfectly_."

Rose laughed, she couldn't help it. "Like that, do you?"

He kissed the side of her breast between his fingers. "I rather think I do."

Rose grinned seductively, and slid her arm into the tight space between them, and firmly cupped his hard erection in her hand. The Doctor jerked against her, his eyes rounding. "Oh!"

She raised her eyebrows and made a small hum of assessment. Rose rubbed her hand firmly against the ridge. "Doesn't fit in my hand, little to much for that, I think."

His eyelids slid heavily over his eye and he clenched his teeth, a low groan rumbling through his chest. "Is that a bad thing?" He pushed into her palm.

"Not at all."

The Doctor's eyes darkened, and his hearts beat thunderously against her. His hand left her breast to push down her body, nudging away her flannels. Rose lifted her head from the pillow to kiss him, opening her mouth beneath his oral exploration as her hands fumbled with his belt buckle. He pushed himself up off her, his lips never leaving hers, until she finally had the buckle free and his trousers shoved down over his slim hips.

Only when neither of them could maneuver until their final pieces of clothing were gone, did he roll away from her. With gazes locked, they both shrugged off their bottoms, the Doctor with an almost ecstatic grin on his face. Warmth, not from arousal but from unadulterated happiness, spread through Rose's chest as she opened her arms, silently asking his return.

He leveled his body over hers, supporting his weight on his arms as he settled between her legs. Rose's breath came in short, rapid bursts and she dug her fingers into his back, begging him with her touch. She felt him hovering at the edge of entering her, and Rose groaned his name, shifting beneath him.

The Doctor took her hands from his back, first one then the other, and laced their fingers together palm to palm. He slid their joined hands along the bed until they rested on each side of her head, and leaned in for another slow, deep and devastating kiss. Rose gasped against him as he completed the act and pushed into her heat.

Rose clenched his hands, tipping her head back into the pillows as waves of sensation flooded her. The Doctor laid his cheek against her breast, his breath hot and rapid on her skin. Neither moved for several moments, the Doctor buried deep inside her. Then he released her hands and she wrapped her arms around him as he rose over her again.

Holding her gaze, tiny beads of sweat on his forehead, the Doctor began to move.

Each slow withdrawal and thrust was a study in exquisite torture, pummeling her senses with fire and energy and the invisible coil in her center tightened, drawing in from every limb. The Doctor never closed his eyes, never looked away from her face as he made love to her. She felt the tension building in his muscles and she raised her knees, slightly changing the angle. They both groaned at the new sensation and his body shuddered briefly before he continued.

They had made love with urgency, with desperation, with fiery passion, and with deep affection… but never had Rose felt so completely loved. Every touch was _everything_, every movement a moment locked in time. He pressed his face into the curve of her throat, his hands slipping beneath her to curl around her shoulders, and his thrusts quickened.

A cool rush of heat flashed over Rose, and the coil tightened. She gasped each breath, hanging on to him just to keep herself from exploding.

"Doctor!" She cried out, his name a prayer, as the coil snapped and her orgasm flashed through her.

He pushed hard into her, riding out the sensation of her body gripping him. His teeth grazed her skin, a low growl vibrating against her. With her body still pulsing, he thrust into her three more times before his own release shuddered through him.

The tension in his body drained away, and he let his weight rest on her just a little more. But, Rose didn't mind. She didn't want to let go, didn't want to give up the moment and the touch of him. Rose held him close as he rested his cheek on her breast, stroking his hair and kissing his damp forehead.

His fingers skimmed over her from hip to breast, a delicate touch on her skin. The Doctor turned his head enough to press a lingering kiss to the upper swell of her breast. "Your heart is beating as fast as both of mine."

Rose smiled, laughing softly. "Can you blame it?"

He rose over her, kissing her lips. "Rose Marion Tyler, you are amazing." He kissed her again. "And you are mine."

Tears welled in her eyes, and she held his face in her hands, prolonging the kiss. When he pulled back, a frown replaced his smile and his thumbs stroked the moisture from her temples where the tears fell.

"Rose?"

She shook her head. "It's okay. I'm happy… I'm… I can't even describe what I am." She said the last words on a chuckle, and the Doctor's expression softened. Rose ran her thumb along his lower lip, matching his smile when he grinned. He smiled more now, and she loved that. She loved him.

"And I am."

"You _are_ what?" he asked.

"Yours."

He grinned wider – if that were possible – and kissed her again, then pushed away with such enthusiasm the bed bounced. "Well, now that we've squared that away. Did I mention I made breakfast? Bit cold now, I'm afraid… but it's hard for chocolate chip pancakes to really be _bad_, is it? Hot. Cold. All good, I say."

Rose slid back to sit against the headboard, drawing the blanket to her chest, watching him as he retrieved the tray of pancakes and strawberries at the foot of the bed, completely oblivious to his own stark nakedness.

"Tea might be rubbish now. I can get you more. Though, since Mickey was in the kitchen when I left I probably should at least put my trousers back on."

Rose laughed at the idea of Mickey finding the Doctor pullin' the full monty while making her tea. "Yeah, that might be a good idea. But, I don't need tea. Come back over here and bring those pancakes."

He set the cold tea aside on a small table and returned to the bed, sliding between the blankets with her as he settled the tray across her lap. Picking up a strawberry, he held it to her lips so she could take a bite.

As he watched her chew, his smile relaxed some but never disappeared. "I'm sorry, Rose. I know I said it last night, but I wasn't…" He looked away for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I want to say it so you know it's me talking, not my grief."

Rose finished chewing, knowing full well he had shoved the fruit in her mouth so he could speak without being interrupted. "It's over now." She laid her hand against his cheek. "Everybody has rough spots, yeah?"

"I suppose. Do they?"

Rose remembered what he had said the night before. _I don't know how to do this_. Maybe he didn't. Maybe he had forgotten how to be anything but alone. Tears welled in her eyes again at the thought of how lonely he had to have been, and her heart ached.

"Yeah. They do. And all this is new for both of us. We'll figure it out."

He grinned and scooted closer to her to slip his arm behind her neck. Sitting as close as they could and still manage to eat, they finished off the Doctor's plate of chocolate chip pancakes and strawberries. She didn't mention the slightly crispy edges or the singed chips, because he'd made them and they were perfect.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

_She's dead. The TARDIS is dead. There's nothing to fix. She's perished. The last TARDIS in the universe… extinct._

Rose had been in too much shock when it happened, her brain didn't register the Doctor's words. And then, they'd realized where they were and she'd seen her dead father's face, and the Doctor's words had slipped to the back of her mind.

Now, she remembered them with painful clarity.

She stood in the library, the cavernous space so dark she could barely see. Rose had inched her way down the stairs, and actually found she moved better through the space with her eyes closed, not trying to see but instead remember the room layout. She walked cautiously across the carpet until her hands met the high back of the leather chair. The faint scent of wood smoke and old books lingered in the air. Silence was like a wet blanket, smothering her.

"Are you still here?" she asked the darkness. "Please… show us something. Anything."

There was no response.

Rose walked around the chair, the ache in her chest so terrible it hurt to breathe. She took small steps, her hand extended in front of her, until her fingers touched the beautifully ornate mantel of the fireplace. The wood was cold. Not just cool from being without a fire, but cold like stone left outside in winter. Like the frozen wave of Woman Wept.

She sucked in a sharp breath, and a sob ripped through her. Rose crossed her arms on the hearth, laying her head on her sleeves, as the waves of anguish shook her.

_We are three. We are one. Precious Rose._

"You can't just be gone! You can't!" Her sleeve muffled the words, but Rose knew if there were anyone to hear, she would hear. There was no steady rhythm of the engines like air in lungs, or grind of the mechanics to the rhythm of a heart. There was nothing. There was no whisper that everything would be okay, no nudge to guide her where she needed to be.

Nothing.

Rose choked on her tears.

His footsteps preceded his voice, but Rose couldn't stop the onslaught. The flash of a torch caught her peripheral vision.

"Rose?"

His hand touched her hair and she crumbled, turning into him and collapsing to the floor at the same time. The Doctor caught her, moved with her, and knelt on the floor holding her as she cried. Rose pulled at his jacket, burying her face against his chest, wishing for all the world she could climb inside him and escape. She pulled and clutched and hung on to him until her arms were around his shoulders and her face buried in the collar of his suit.

He shushed softly against the side of her head, kissing her hair, rocking her gently. He was saying something about it being better not to see Pete Tyler, and he was sorry for being so harsh. Rose shook her head against the curve of his throat, a sob so vicious ripping through her that she shook.

He pushed her back, not to free himself of her grip, but to look into her face. The Doctor cradled her jaw in his hands, studying her, and all she could do was try and breathe.

"Then what is it? Rose, please… tell me what's wrong."

"Sh-she's dead." Rose snuffed the back of her hand against her running nose, her chest hurting with the seizure of sobs. "She's dead. It hurts. Oh, god, Doctor… it hurts so much!"

His hands stilled and an immediate, intense sadness took over his features, shadowed by the inadequate light from the torch. "Oh, Rose. The TARDIS… you're crying for the TARDIS."

"Can't you feel it? It's so empty? So quiet?"

The Doctor sat on the floor, leaning his back against the bookshelf beside the fireplace, bringing her with him. She curled against him, pressing her cheek against his chest to hear the dual beat of his hearts.

"The silence is deafening," he said softly.

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Rose stood outside the shell of the TARDIS, even the exterior of the ship now saturated with the bone-numbing cold that she had felt in the fireplace mantle the day before. She touched the 'FREE for use of PUBLIC' sign, resting her forehead against the chipped blue paint of the door.

The Doctor had gone in just moments before, telling her to wait outside until he knew the power cell would work. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, and she tried to breathe, but the effort was exhausting. He told her he was 97.65497 sure that the power cell would revive the TARDIS engines.

Odds were good... but she was terrified about what might have been lost.

"Ha-HAH!"

Her head jerked up and she pushed the door open, stopping short just at the bottom of the ramp grate. A soft green glow, dimmer than the usual light from the engine pistons, spread out from the console. The air inside the TARDIS was cold, curling her breath in front of her face, but the grate beneath her feet vibrated gently.

The Doctor turned from the console, a smile that practically lit the room by itself stretching his lips and dimpling his cheeks. "It works! She's alive!"

"Yeah?" He nodded. "Yeah?!" she asked again. She didn't give him a chance to answer before she ran up the ramp and into his waiting arms.

"I am never ever, ever going to doubt you again," she said against his shoulder as he hugged her.

The Doctor pulled back, a look of shock on his face. "You mean you doubted me before?"

Rose laughed and shook her head. "No, not ever. But, if I ever did, I would remember this."

He grinned and looked up at the piston, his gaze drifting to some far off spot. "I can feel her. She's tired, but she's coming back." The Doctor kissed her cheek before stepping away to read some streaming information on his monitor, his brow pulling over his eyes as he studied it. "She needs about ten minutes to draw the stored energy from the power cell and recycle it through her system. At that point, we have a small window of opportunity to navigate through the void before she'll lose whatever residual energy is left. But…" He looked at her over the rim of his glasses. "Once on the other side, she can soak up the natural energy from the proper universe and fill up those engines. Course, a proper trip to Cardiff might be in order to stock up her energy stores. I wouldn't go gallivanting around too much for a bit."

"Did you just say _gallivanting_?"

"I suppose I did." He grinned wider and winked.

Rose leaned on the edge of the console, her hands tucked beneath her, as she watched him fiddle and examine the softly glowing controls on the console, and smiled as she drew a deep breath. The air was already warming, and the 'breath' of the TARDIS was stronger. She was waking up.

"Doctor…" Rose said hesitantly. He looked up and hummed a soft 'I'm listening' sound. "Have you ever seen the TARDIS?"

His eyes pinched and he paused with his hand over a lever. "What do you mean, Rose?"

Rose pulled her lip through her teeth. More than once, she'd wondered if the little blonde child had been a dream, some figment of her imagination, some manifestation of everything she already knew deep down about the Doctor but hadn't let herself admit. But, it had seemed so real. She could still remember the warmth of the child's hands and the smell of sunshine on her hair.

"Rose." She jumped, yanked from her thoughts when he spoke. He stood close to her, his face only inches from her.

"You and she, you've been together a long time, yeah?"

He nodded. "Roughly eight hundred years, I suppose."

"Have you ever seen her? Like…" Rose huffed, wishing she could ask this question without sounding completely certifiable. "You talk to her, yeah?" He nodded. "Have you ever…has she ever…like…"

"You mean a corporeal manifestation of her sentient consciousness?"

"Yes!"

"No."

Rose's shoulders slumped. "Never?"

His attention shifted back to the monitor, reading the figures over the top of his specs. "No, never. I can't imagine a reason she'd need to, unless she was trying to communicate something she couldn't otherwi..." is voice trailed off and his eyes shifted to look at her again. Slowly, he straightened, his gaze on her, and he slipped his glasses off. "Rose... have _you_?"

Rose slid one of her hands from behind her to chew on the cuticle of her thumb, diverting her eyes away from him. _Okay, so maybe I am crazy. Imagining things. Too much stress, or something_. "I was just asking."

He was staring at her, and it was unnerving. Rose bit, and flinched, tasting the metallic tang of blood. She'd pay for that for days. The Doctor left the controls, stepping in front of hers so his feet were on either side of hers, and he took her hand, pulling her thumb away from her mouth. Rose looked up, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks. He kissed the stinging finger and held their joined hands against his chest.

"Now... tell me." Rose turned her head, attempting to distract him by pointing something out on the monitor, but he touched her chin and turned her back. "Tell me."

Rose huffed a breath. "I think I did." She looked him in the eyes, gauging his reaction. "Saw her in... you know... what you said... "

"A corporeal manifestation of her sentient consciousness. You saw her." Rose nodded. "Did you just think you saw something that you assumed was the TARDIS?" She shook her head. "Did she say she was the TARDIS?"

"Well, I figured it out. But, she didn't disagree, and she was in my head. You know… she knew what I was thinking."

He frowned. " Just what kind of form did she take?" Rose squirmed uneasily under his intense study, and fought the urge to yank her hand free of his to bite on her cuticles again, but she suspected that was why he had such a firm grip on her hand. "Rose..." He drew her name out.

She looked down. "A little girl." When he didn't say anything to that, she looked up through her lashes. "A little blonde girl, maybe six years old."

"When was this?"

Rose swallowed. "A few nights ago. The night..." She blinked, her eyes suddenly burning when she remembered the sight of him — broken and devastated — in the console room. "The night I found you..." She glanced back toward the jump seat, and his hold on her hand tightened.

"What did she say?"

"A lot of things." Rose smiled, blinking rapidly. "But, none of your secrets. She said you get angry with her when she tells your secrets. She said you were still cross with her, and when you were cross you ignored her and banged on her."

His chest hitched in a sharp breath and he looked up at the piston as it still slowly rose and fell, rebuilding its stores of energy enough to take them home. Rose swallowed, hoping she could continue without crying. None of what the little girl said was sad, because all of it was laced with her love for him.

So, she decided to gloss over the worst parts... about his pain, and how it hurt him. How it hurt her when he called her his stupid machine, but obviously made her happy when she was his beautiful ship. How he had forgotten how to be anything but alone. Rose sniffed, wiping at her cheeks with her free hand.

"She told me - how'd she put it? - your names for me that you don't say." He eyes snapped back to her, but they were wide with surprise and not anger. Rose wasn't telling any of the worst secrets, so she smiled. "Clever Rose. Beautiful Rose." His mouth turned up in a small, secret smile. "Precious Rose. Forever Rose." Her voice caught just a little when his eyes shined with a kind of pride, and he laid his hands on her cheeks, his thumb stroking her skin.

"Our Rose." His voice was rough, strained, but his smile told her the truth.

She nodded into his touch, and he moved into her, kissing her. Her happily-cried tears salted the kiss, and she opened her mouth to him. His tongue slipped slowly past her teeth, and their shared moan mingled in the space between. He leaned her back, and with the slightest hop, Rose sat on the edge of the console and he moved between her legs, his body pushing her skirt higher. One hand left her face to rest on the black tights she still wore with her short waitstaff dress. Rose moaned again when his touch moved up her leg to the hem of her skirt, inching it upward.

A sharp alarm sounded, making Rose jump, and the Doctor moved away. But, by the look on his face she could tell he didn't want to. He flipped a switch, turned a knob and glared at the monitor.

"Seven minutes. That's our window of opportunity. Mickey'd better get here quick." His gaze shifted from the monitor to her, and he looked her over from head to toe. Rose's skin flushed hotter beneath the appreciative gaze. "Pete is outside. Do you want to go talk to him?"

Rose nodded, and slid off the console edge, her boots echoing on the grating. Before she moved out of reach, the Doctor caught her hand, and she looked back. He tugged gently and she stepped against him, his hand resting on her waist.

"I want to talk about this later."

"Is it bad?"

He smiled, wide and adorable. "No. Actually, this could be very good. Very, very good. In a way I will explain later." He pressed a kiss to her cheek near her ear and spoke softly, sending chills over her. "When we have plenty of time to be alone."

Rose closed her eyes, releasing a shuddered breath at the wave of awareness that tickled over her skin. The alarm sounded again.

"Six minutes."

She nodded and headed for the door.


	12. Chapter 12

Title:

CHAPTER TWELVE

"You just give me five minutes, Sweetheart. I'll change the bed linens, give you nice fresh ones. Those haven't been touched in months. You just drink your tea."

"Mum…"

But Jackie Tyler was already gone, down the hall and in Rose's bedroom. Moments later, Rose heard the frump of blankets being tossed aside. Rose shook her head and looked around the small flat. Nothing changed. Nothing ever changes. Oh, sure… a color on the walls, and she thought the drapes in the sitting room might be different…but, it was the same home she'd known since she was a baby.

It was the home her mum and dad had shared. And she realized now, after seeing the opulence and wealth that Pete Tyler had gathered in the parallel world, that this place was more of a home than anything they had.

It didn't mean that the idea of her mum dying like the other Jackie Tyler did…it didn't mean the idea didn't terrify her and make her want to cling to her mum again, hang on tight and not let go for a good long time.

The legs of the Doctor's chair scraped across the floor as he scooted closer to her, laying his hand on hers on top of the table. He leaned closer, looking into her eyes.

"I'm going to go in the TARDIS," he said softly so his voice didn't carry. "Give you and Jackie some time." Rose turned her hand over, gripping his. He laid his free hand on her cheek, smiling. "I'm just inside. I'm not going anywhere, not even going to move her.'

Rose couldn't help smiling as she looked to where the TARDIS was tucked snugly in the corner of the sitting room between the couch and the bookshelf. He conceded to Jackie's protests that she couldn't get to the front hall with the 'big blue thing' where it was, so he'd moved it a few feet. Jackie had asked why he didn't just leave it down in the alley like usual, but a shared glance between Rose and him communicated what they both felt.

Neither of them wanted her very far away.

"You don't mind stayin'?"

"Of course not. But, we will have to go some time tomorrow."

Rose nodded, already knowing why. The TARDIS was slowly rejuvenating her engines, slowly building her strength, but the voyage back through the rift had been rough…rougher than any flight they'd ever taken. And he'd touched her down on the moon for just a bit before attempting a controlled, precise landing like he needed to set her down in the Powell Estates flat.

Rose wrapped both her hands around his and kissed his thumb, resting her cheek on his hand. She hadn't asked to be brought home, but he'd done it without saying a word. He knew, and she loved that.

The Doctor stroked her hair and stood, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he slipped his hand free, squeezing her fingers gently before he let go completely. "Come to me if you need me." One more kiss on her temple, and he stepped toward the TARDIS. "Good night, Jackie."

Her mum mumbled a good night, and based on her tone, Rose had no doubt she'd seen the last kiss, if not the last several moments. Jackie slid into the chair the Doctor had vacated, a half-hearted scowl on her face. Thing was, Rose knew that no matter how much Jackie Tyler groused and complained about him…she liked him.

_A girl could do worse than a time and space traveling Time Lord, after all. Decent job, owns his own place._

Rose heard the TARDIS door close, and immediately she felt bereft. She wanted her mum, but…

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to this," her mum said, sipping at her tea and taking a biscuit from the plate on the table. She took a bite and waved the remaining bit of biscuit in the general direction of the TARDIS. "You comin' and goin', showing up in tears because of some daft place he's dragged you off to."

"Mum, don't start."

Jackie sighed and set the cup down. The two sat in silence for several moments before Jackie patted Rose's hand. "You going to be all right, sweetheart?"

Rose nodded. "It was just a bit rough, everything that happened."

"Why don't you stay for awhile? Let 'im go off and do whatever it is he does for awhile."

The idea of staying behind sent a chill up Rose's spine, and she immediately shook her head. Already, the walls of the flat were closing in and she missed the hum of the TARDIS. "No, Mum. We've got to go tomorrow. And I'm going with him."

"Rose..."

"No, Mum. I'm going with him."

Her mother reached across the table and turned Rose's face to look at her, staring at her as if looking for something. After a few minutes, she released a long breath. "Not much I can do. You love 'im." Jackie sat back, grabbing another biscuit. "Suppose it could be worse. He loves you, too, after all."

Rose looked toward the TARDIS, and smiled.

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2:11 a.m.

Rose sat against her cushioned pink headboard and looked around the dark shadows of her room at all the loud, obnoxious ipinkness/i of it all. She scowled and tossed a pillow toward the foot of the bed. How did she stand this? She missed her big bed on the TARDIS... correction... she missed itheir/i big bed on the TARDIS, with its red velvet coverlet and plethora of pillows. She missed the perfect softness of the mattress and the sheer draping over the massive, carved headboard. At first, she thought it was pretentious... now, she called it theirs.

With a huff, she tossed the blanket back and went to the door.

Easing it open, she glanced across the hall and saw her mother's shut door. The apartment was dark except for a faint blue glow from the end of the hall. She padded softly to the end of the hall and glanced into the sitting room. The light on top of the TARDIS glowed just a little brighter, and she smiled.

"Yeah, stupid me," she said as she approached the door. "Thought I could sleep anywhere else." She pulled her key from the front of her tank where it hung on a chain. Crouching over, she unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The soft green glow of the engines lit the console room, and Rose paused at the console to lay her hand on one of the naturally-grown bits of what the Doctor called the TARDIS coral. She rubbed her fingers across the warm knobs.

"I know now why he touches you," she said softly. "And I'll never make fun of him again."

The engine light fluctuated. Rose smiled.

She peeked briefly into the bedroom, but didn't expect to find him there. Another glance in the kitchen... with a grin at the open jar of marmalade on the counter... and she moved down the hall toward the library.

A very low fire burned in the hearth, barely enough to light the space between the fireplace and the Doctor's leather chair. A brass and glass lamp sat on a small table beside the chair, lighting the area. As Rose descended the steps, she saw his trainers, his legs crossed. A few more steps and she could see his lap, a large book open in it, one hand resting on the pages. But, he hadn't moved.

Rose walked on her toes around the side of the chair, and a warm flood of emotion shifted through her chest when she finally saw him. His elbow rested on the far armrest, his temple propped against his folded hand. His knuckles pushed his glasses slightly off kilter, and his eyes were closed. A soft snore eased through his open lips.

She tilted her head to read the text in his lap.

_It is not half as innocent a thing as it looks, that shaking little pieces of carpet – at least there may be no great harm in the shaking, but the folding is a very insidious process. So long as the shaking lasts, and the two parties are kept the carpet's length apart, it is as innocent an amusement as can well be devised, but when the folding begins, and the distance between them gets gradually lessened from one-half its former length to a quarter, and then to an eighth, and then to a sixteenth, and then to a thirty-second if the carpet be long enough, it becomes dangerous. We do not know to a nicety how many pieces of carpet were folded in this instance, but we can venture to state that as many pieces as there were, so many times did Sam kiss the pretty housemaid._

Very carefully, Rose lifted his hand from the pages and slid the book from his lap. She closed the book and set it on the floor, squatting beside the chair to look up at him. Rose hadn't had a chance to watch _this_ Doctor sleep, and she loved the peaceful, almost childlike look on his face. Holding her breath, as if it might help not disturb the perfect moment, Rose eased the glasses off his face.

He drew a deep breath, releasing it, but his eyes never opened. Rose smiled, pressing her fingertips to her mouth and then delicately to his lips. His breath warmed her skin.

Rose braced herself with a hand on either armrest, and leaned into him, touching her lips to his. She let the touch caress him, slowly drawing his lip between hers with soft suction, and when she parted her lips again, he woke.

In a tick, he was kissing her back, and the slide of his tongue into her mouth flooded her senses with arousal, and she hummed softly against his lips. His hands came up to hold her head, and moving together, Rose stepped back and he stood from the chair, the kiss never stopping.

"I needed you," she said, tipping her head back so she could see his eyes, her chin still touching his.

"I hoped you'd come."

Her skin tingled and her eyes fluttered shut when he nipped and kissed his way down her throat to her shoulder. One perfectly placed hard kiss against her pulse point nearly buckled her knees, and she threw her head back. His hands skimmed over her sides, cupping her breasts for far too short of a time before pulling her hard against her.

Rose's frantic fingers found the buttons of his jacket, and as dizzy as she was from his kiss, she managed to get the jacket unbuttoned. She pushed it off his shoulders, starting down his arms, when he suddenly jerked back.

"No! Wait."

"Wha…?" she asked, breathless. "Wait? Why?"

The Doctor smiled, a devastatingly sexy curving of his lips that made Rose quiver. He slid his hands up her back beneath her tank, his face brushing against hers as he held her gaze. "Trust me. If I'm right, and it's hardly ever that I'm not, it's worth it."

All Rose knew was that she wanted him.

Which is why she groaned loudly when he took her hand and led her toward the stairs. The library worked just fine for her. It was, after all, the place they'd made love the first time. Right there in front of the fire… she glanced back, and another flutter of arousal shifted through her.

"Remember I said we needed to talk more about the TARDIS?"

"You want to talk about that now?"

They stopped half way up the stairs, the Doctor one step up from her. She couldn't help herself from curling her fingers into the waistband of his trousers, and was rewarded by the clenching of his jaw before he leaned over and kissed her. He slid his finger between their mouths to break them apart. "No distracting me. That's not fair."

"All's fair in love and shagging."

He laughed, but continued back up the stairs, pulling her along. "You told me the TARDIS appeared to you. To talk to you."

"Yeah?"

"Had you communicated with her before?"

They reached the hall and he led them directly to the bedroom to stand beside the bed. He turned to face her, standing close enough that the lapel of his jacket rubbed across her breasts, making them ache with the want for more.

"Rose… have you communicated with her before?"

She managed a nod. "A few times." Rose couldn't resist the urge to attempt again to push his jacket off his shoulders. She grinned when he didn't argue, and as she slid the sleeves down his arms, leaning in to brush her nose against his prominent Adam's apple.

The jacket dropped to the floor and she immediately went to work on the brown silk tie, wiggling the knot loose. His hands settled on her hips, his fingertips brushing the bare strip of skin between the top of her pyjama shorts and her tank.

"When was the first time, Rose."

She smiled against his neck as she slid the tie free of his collar. Wasting no time, she started unbuttoning his shirt. "In the library."

He hissed softly when she slid her hand inside his shirt, the sparse hairs on his chest tickling her palm. "I didn't mean _that_ first time, Rose."

Rose chuckled, enjoying this game… talking and undressing at the same time. "Neither did I. The first time was in the library. After you regenerated." She pulled back enough to look into his face. "I came to the TARDIS, hoping to find some way of helping you. I asked her to help me." His brown eyes watched her intently even as his fingers skimmed her skin, inching the hem of her tank up her body. "And she did."

"How?"

"She gave me the journals." His jaw clenched, but she didn't pause in unbuttoning his shirt. With all the buttons free, she tugged the tails from his trousers and leaned in to press a kiss to his breastbone. The pressure of his fingers increased against her hips. "She told me her link with you was dying. She wanted me to fix you."

"You heard her?"

Rose nodded, meeting his gaze as she tugged the shirt free of his wrists. "Yeah. Pretty clear. In my head. She's demanding when it comes to you." She slipped her fingers inside the waistband of his trousers and slid her knuckles all the way around his waist to the buckle. His abdominal muscles tightened beneath her touch, and she wondered just how long he'd be able to keep up this multi-tasking.

"Tell me more."

"I hear her. I see her. I feel her." She decided as she worked open the buckle of his belt that he wouldn't let it go until he heard everything. "The night we fought in the library—"

"She wanted us to stop," he finished.

Rose nodded, feeling the prickle of tears in her eyes again at the memory of the sad desperation. "What's all this mean, Doctor?"

Before answering, he bent his neck to kiss her, gently but firmly. His hands moved up her sides, taking the tank with them, and when he pulled back, he took the shirt off over her head, leaving them both bare to the waist.

"It means, Rose… that unlike any other companion I have even traveled with, you have the ability to communicate with my machine. Whether it's because of what happened at Satellite Five, or whether the ability was always there and just took some time to present itself, you are…" He smiled widely, skimming his hands over her arms to rest on her shoulders. "Absolutely amazing."

"Ship," she corrected. He tilted his head. "She doesn't like it when you call her a machine. She's your ship. Your _beautiful_ ship."

The Doctor nodded, smiling with a pride that lit his eyes. "Quite right."

Rose leaned into him until their skin met, sending a flush through her, and worked down the zipper of his trousers. He looked down at her, his grin crooked and his eyelids heavy, as she pushed the trousers and pants beneath past his hips to pool around his feet. Holding her in his gaze, he toed off his trainers and kicked the clothes aside. In turn, he slid his hands beneath her pyjamas, his fingertips pressing into her bottom to hold her closer to his skin.

"Was all this waiting just to tell me I was amazing?" Rose wrapped her arms around him, reveling in the skin on skin contact, sliding her hands up his back until she felt the dual heartbeats.

"No." He touched her face, his fingers tracing over he cheekbones, her temples and through her hair around her ears. His eyes tracked the points of contact, and his lips tipped up in a tiny smile - almost a smile of wonder, and she wondered just what he saw when he looked at her like that. "Rose, my people… Time Lords, not all of Gallifrey… gave up the physical aspect of love centuries ago."

Rose smirked. "You could've fooled me."

He smiled and kissed her, but for not nearly long enough. Her body ached for him, craved him… needed him. "Yes, well…" he said against her mouth. "I never was one to subscribe to the party line, as they say. Time Lords were selected, bred, more or less _created_, so physical intimacy became unnecessary. It actually became a bit of a taboo, because of potential procreation outside the strict structure of the Council. Probably why they disliked me so." He mumbled the last bit a little under his breath. "I rather like physical intimacy. But, Rose Tyler, you're getting me off point."

"Oh, please…" Rose clenched her hands against his bottom, pressing his erection to her stomach. "Get to the point."

The Doctor half-growled/half-laughed, and with a squeal from her, crouched to slide his hands down the back of her legs and scooped her up, lifted her off her feet to collapse them both on the bed. With a final kick or two, Rose shed the pyjama bottoms and he moved over her, settling his weight between her thighs. Rose shifted beneath him, but he didn't seem ready to finally ease her ache.

He leaned on his elbows, so he could brush her hair away from her face. "The point is that we found other ways to feel intimate with someone if we chose to. We joined with our minds, not our bodies." As if in response to his own words, he shifted over her, and Rose groaned at the friction. "The point is, Rose? I think we can do both."

"What does it mean? What would happen?"

He smiled, seeming happy with her question. "We would be like one person, Rose. Our thoughts would mingle. We'd share sensations and emotions. It's the most intimate kind of connection, and Time Lords only shared it with those people..." His smile softened and he studied her. She loved it when he looked at her like that. "It's like making love with the mind. We didn't share it with just anyone."

A hot wave flashed over her skin, pooling like ice lava in her lower body. At the same time, a pleasant catch hit the center of her chest, an invisible hand wrapping around her heart. "You want to do that... with me?"

"Oh, yes," he answered quickly. He kissed her, and she could tell that he'd only intended it to be a brief contact before going on, but his mouth returned to hers nearly the instant it left and he kissed her deeply, his tongue filling her mouth. He rose over her, his body rubbing along hers, and Rose's stomach fluttered at the soft sound of pleasure that rumbled through his chest into her mouth. He reluctantly stopped kissing her, but balanced the chisled edge of his chin against hers, looking down at her as their breath mingled. "I've thought about this before, but it would have been one-sided and not a true mingling if you didn't have some sort of latent psychic ability."

"You think I'm psychic?"

"Well... not _psychic_, really. You're not going to go around reading minds, or anything. But, you communicate with the TARDIS directly, and that's not possible otherwise."

Rose blinked, staring at him. It was a lot to process, and with his naked body against hers, brain functions were not a priority. He shifted, just a hair, and the rush of sensation made her eyes flutter. His gaze shifted away, focusing on his own fingers as they stroked her hair.

"It can be frightening, Rose, not like anything you've experienced before. We don't have to try tonight, or ever." His gaze came back to her eyes. "I will be happy to share your body from now until..._ forever_," he said with a smile.

"We're together, yeah? I won't be alone, ever."

"Never."

"Then I won't be afraid." She touched his face, stroking her thumb across his lips. Rose laced her fingers into his hair and pulled him down to her for a long, deep kiss. He slid against her again, and her fingers curled, tugging slightly at his hair. She pushed her head back into the bed, breaking the kiss so she could make eye contact. "Will you answer a question for me first?"

"Anything."

Rose licked her lips, hoping she didn't completely mangle the words she wanted to say. "_Cusa Ju Bibilia'a_."

The Doctor sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes widening. "Where did you?" But his voice trailed off, and she knew he'd realized where she'd heard it. "Did she tell you what it means?"

"No, she only said that to her, that is what you are. That's what I want you to tell me."

"It means Beloved." His voice was rough when he explained. "It's the most precious name you can give another."

"_Cusa Ju Bibilia'a_," she said again, curling her neck up so she could kiss his cheek, first one then the other. "Tell me what to do."

"Just trust me."

"I already do, Doctor."

With his gaze locked on her, the Doctor finally ended her agony and slid inside her. Rose's breath hitched and her eyes fluttered, but she didn't look away from him. She expected him to touch her temples, or her face, like she'd seen in Star Trek and psychic shows, but he didn't. He just moved over her, pushing deeper into her. Rose's senses sparked, her skin vividly alive.

"Don't close your eyes. Just look at me."

It was so easy, Rose feared she did it wrong. She focused on him, on the proud look in his eyes as he looked down at her, and released a long breath. As the air left her lungs, the world faded away and nothing was clear but his face.

_You are beautiful, Rose._

His voice whispered in her mind, so clear and so beautifully, she wouldn't have known it wasn't his actual voice if she hadn't been watching him. Electric bubble danced up her spinal cord, exploding in her mind like the cork on a champagne bottle, and Rose gasped, clinging tightly to him. He stroked her cheeks and kissed the corner of her mouth as she tried to catch her breath. Panic threatened to burst in her chest as every sense seemed to multiply by ten.

_We can stop this if you want._

Rose shook her head. It was terrifying, but in the best possible way. Like riding the most intense rollercoaster in the world. Flipping upside down and screaming through the corkscrew made her blood effervescent and her breath catch, but it was too good to stop.

Her heart pounded, and swirls of color danced in her peripheral vision, flashes of starlight and nebulous clouds.

_Focus on every cell, every point of contact between your body and mine._

The awareness built slowly, first with an intensifying of the sensations. His hands stroked her skin, his lips kissing her neck and jaw, but with each brush of body to body, her breath caught. He groaned, and she felt the shift of every tiny hair on her skin his breath disturbed. Rose clung to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and drawing her legs behind his thighs to hold him closer. Her fingertip brushed a spot on his back, and she laughed despite the barrage of intensified reality.

_Love the mole. _

Speaking without words seemed natural in this state, she just reached out to him, and her own voice echoed in her mind.

_Rose._

It was her name, but Rose heard in it so much more than just the vowel and consonants that designated who she was. It was a prayer, a declaration, a shout. Light flashed, and Rose felt the scream in her throat. She shook her head, letting him know when she couldn't that it was okay. Rose reached out further, and submerged herself in his touch.

_Oh, god!_

! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

The Doctor drew in a deep breath, his senses immediately filling with the smell of shampoo and velvet, and Rose. He blinked his eyes open, and found himself looking into her sleeping face. They lay facing each other, and Rose's hands where tucked beneath her cheek, a small smile still curving her lips. Rumpled blonde hair fell across her cheek and her cheeks glowed a healthy pink.

He inhaled again, reveling in the contentment —_and dare he think it?_ — happiness he couldn't, and didn't want to, shake.

When she told him about the TARDIS, he had wondered if the mingling of their minds was even possible. And the idea of making love to her at the same time, that had been just a "Why not?" kind of thought. Things weren't done that way, had never been done that way, as far as he knew.

It was official. He was the luckiest Son of a Bastard, in this or any other universe.

He'd reached into the mind of others, he'd read their thoughts when he needed to, like Madame du Pompadour to discover why she was of such interest to the Clockwork Men. She'd touched some of him, but only as much as she could skimming the surface. And that was just facts, points of character.

Rose had touched his soul. And he'd touched hers.

And she was beautiful.

Rose's hand slid from beneath her cheek and shifted across the sheets, touching his chest. Her palm laid flat against his breastbone and he held it there, waiting. Moments later she opened her eyes and her smile widened as she drew in her first deep breath of the day.

"Hello."

The Doctor grinned widely and leaned toward her. She lifted her head off the pillow enough to meet his lips. He settled back onto his pillow and brushed her hair out of her face. "Hello."

Rose scooted closer to him, tugging the blankets and sheets away so their bodies touched, their still blessedly naked bodies. "Can I just say…"

"Wow?"

She laughed softly, nuzzling into his neck. "That's a start, yeah." Rose pulled back quickly, looking at him. "Was that supposed to happen?"

"Which part?"

Beautiful color bloomed in her cheeks and she stuck the tip of her tongue through her teeth. "The part where I could, like… _feel_ you _feeling_ me."

The Doctor slid his hand beneath the covers and draped his arm over her waist, pressing his palm against the small of her back to bring her closer. The sheet rustled softly, and he realized it was probably one of the prettiest sounds in the universe.

_Except for the hitched gasps that one Rose Tyler emitted when her orgasm was about to take her. _

"I don't know," he finally answered. "I told you that the connection would let us share with each other. But, as far as I know, no one has ever done it and done what we were doing while we did it."

"Never?"

"Time Lords don't shag," he said with a pompous tone, jutting his lower jaw out with his eyes half-closed.

Rose laughed, combing her fingernails through the sparse hairs on his chest. She rolled onto her back, scooting even closer into the space between him and the mattress. Beneath the blankets, he settled his hand on her stomach below her bellybutton.

"You were beautiful," he said, trying to speak softly to hide the catch in his voice. "I've never seen anything so beautiful."

She reached for him, but just as their lips brushed, the faint echo of pounding at the TARDIS door reached the bedroom. Both of them groaned, sadly remembering that they weren't on some isolated moon or floating free in the Vortex. They were, in fact, parked in Jackie Tyler's flat.

"I'll go see to your mother." The Doctor reluctantly tossed back the blankets and swung his legs around to set his feet on the floor. "You… do whatever you do…"

"Tell her ten minutes," Rose shouted over her shoulder as she jogged naked into the bathroom.

The knocks came again, and he heard Jackie's shrill voice but couldn't make out what she said. He yanked open his wardrobe cabinet and grabbed a pair of deep blue silk pyjamas, not willing to go through the hassle of finding all the parts to his wardrobe scattered on the floor. He threw on the shirt and grabbed a dressing robe from a hook by the bedroom door as he left the bedroom. By the time he reached the console room, he was tying the belt of the robe.

"I'm coming, Jackie! I'm coming!" He yanked the door open, the smell of breakfast immediately hitting him. His stomach growled almost instantly. "Yes?" he tried to say pleasantly.

"Took you long enough!"

"I was in…" He paused, swallowing, realizing what he was about to say, and also realizing it was too late to say anything else. "Bed."

Jackie crossed her arms, glaring at him, and he wondered just how far he could get into the depths of the TARDIS before she caught him and slapped him… good and hard. After a few excruciatingly long moments, Jackie sighed and attempted not to glare.

"I've got eggs and soldiers. And coffee. You like white or wheat toast?"

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Wheat, please. Thank you."

Jackie started to turn, but stopped and looked back to him. "Tell Rose to hurry along. She's always been slow to start in the morning, and I don't want breakfast to get cold."

He smiled, nodding. "I'll hurry her along." He waited until she was back on the other side of the flat before closing the TARDIS door. The shower was running when he went back to the bedroom. The Doctor stood in the doorway of the bathroom, watching Rose beneath the steaming spray of the massive shower.

"Your mum says to hurry along. Breakfast is just about done."

She turned and looked at him, sweeping her wet hair back from her face. "Then I suggest you get in here quick. Quicker with two."

"Oh, I don't know about that."

They managed to join Jackie for breakfast before the eggs were too cold, and there was plenty of marmalade for the toast. Jackie had a talent for making excellent coffee, and he made sure to tell her so. Her looks in his direction were frequent, and he didn't quite know whether she wanted to hug him or hit him. He even helped Jackie clean up while Rose stood in the kitchen doorway and smiled, watching them.

He looked over his shoulder at her once, and she pressed her fingertips to her lips, blowing the kiss to him. The last time they'd been in this flat, he'd been a 'new' new man… and he'd seen the shadow of doubt in Rose's eyes.

For weeks, they'd taken two steps forward only to stumble back. Sometimes, small steps, sometimes huge. Finally, they were walking side by side. Later, when he prepared the TARDIS for flight and Rose had said good-bye, she stood beside him at the console and he glanced at her.

"How long are you going to stay with me?"

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Forever."


End file.
